


Daddy Lessons

by melissaeverdeen13



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissaeverdeen13/pseuds/melissaeverdeen13
Summary: Recently married Jackson and April decide to spice things up in the bedroom.DISCLAIMER! While this isn't the smuttiest thing I've ever written, it's pretty out there. If somewhat kinky sex isn't for you, don't read this! I won't take any offense. Proceed at your own discretion :)





	1. Part 1

With my purse over my shoulder and my jacket on, I make my way through the main floor of the hospital looking for Jackson. When I finally see him, he’s scolding a group of interns for who-knows-what with a cross look on his face. 

I saunter up to him after they disperse, and he massages his temples. “Hey, boss,” I say, holding one of his biceps with both hands. 

“I swear I’ve never met stupider people,” he complains. 

I plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let them get under your skin,” I say. “Watching you as the big, bad boss is kinda sexy.” 

He can’t help but smile at that. “Oh, yeah?” he says, winding an arm around my waist. “You like that?” 

I giggle, taking a bit of my lower lip into my mouth. “I do,” I say. “Wanna go home?” 

“Let me get changed,” he says. “Meet you in the lobby.” 

I nod and make my way there, taking my time as I meander through the halls. As I’m crossing through to the main entrance, two familiar voices sound from an elevator opening its doors. When I look over, I see Callie and Arizona in the middle of a hushed argument. 

“I’m just saying, it’s not a crime to want to spice things up,” Callie says. I can tell she’s trying to keep her voice down, but it isn’t working that well. “It might seem weird outside of the bedroom, but in? You never know what it might do to you.” 

“Yes, I do,” Arizona insists. “I know myself.” 

“It’s just a suggestion,” the brunette continues, then she spots me. “Hey, Kepner! Over here. I have a question for you.”

I walk over, folding my hands at my waist. “What’s up?” I ask. 

“Without getting completely TMI-” Callie begins.

“Callie,” Arizona scolds. “Don’t ask her. April doesn’t like to talk about sex.” 

“She’s a damn doctor,” Callie says. “Anyway, how kinky do you and Avery get in the bedroom?” 

I blink, surprised. “I… uh,” I stammer. “I’m not sure what you mean.” 

Callie sighs exasperatedly. “What are you guys into?” she asks. 

“Into?” I repeat. My cheeks get hot, which means a blush is imminent. “I… I still don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I knew it,” she grumbles. “Of course, look who I’m asking. You guys probably have the most vanilla sex known to man. I need to ask someone else, maybe Alex?” 

“Hey!” I say, defensively. “Our… our sex is not vanilla.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “No?”

“No,” I say. 

“April, you don’t have to prove anything to her,” Arizona says, obviously at wit’s end with her wife. 

“I’m not,” I say. “I just want you to know, we… we get experimental. We have before.”

“Oh, yeah?” Callie says, egging me on. “Like how?” 

I clear my throat. Jackson and I haven’t been married for all that long, but we do have a lot of sex. And to me, sex in general is exciting enough. It hadn’t ever crossed my mind that it could be more so. So, I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a foot-in-the-mouth situation here. 

We have a lot of missionary-style sex, it’s true. But there’s nothing wrong with that. Jackson is very good with his hands and his mouth, and when we’re ready to explore, we will

But I just told her we already have, and I don’t know enough about this exploratory type of sex to pull a lie out of thin air. 

“Bondage?” Callie hisses. “Avery seems like the type who’d tie you up and dominate you. The whole tortured, pretty little rich boy thing he has going for him must come out in crazy ways in the bedroom.” 

My eyes widen and I gulp. 

“Yeah,” I say, anything to fill in the soon-to-be awkward silence. “Bondage.” 

“Please tell me you’ve tied him up at least once,” Arizona says, getting in on the conversation. 

My face must be scarlet at this point. I don’t know what to say. I let the silence last for too long, and Callie sees right through me. 

“She’s never tied the man up,” Callie says. “Kepner, don’t feel like you have to make stuff up. If you guys have vanilla sex and you enjoy it, more power to you.” 

“It-it’s not always like that,” I say, wringing my hands. “We… we spice it up, too.” 

“Honey, it’s fine,” Arizona says. “You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not. We know you, and we love you just the way you are.” 

“Not saying I don’t agree, but what’re we talking about?” I hear Jackson’s voice, and soon feel his arm wind around my shoulders. I look up at him and he strokes my cheek with the back of his pointer finger. “You’re blushin’, babe.” 

“I…” I blink hard. “Girl talk.” Laughing awkwardly, I take his arm and wave to the couple before us. “See you guys tomorrow,” I say. 

They both give me a knowing, yet skeptical, look as I leave the hospital with my husband. 

“What was that all about back there with Callie and Arizona?” Jackson asks, hands on the wheel as we drive down our street. 

“Nothing,” I say, crossing one leg over the other. 

He shoots me a sly look. “The fact that your face is still pink tells me it was far from nothing,” he says. “Spit it out.” 

“It’s really not important,” I say. I flick a piece of hair out of my eyes and watch the garage door come open, yellow light spilling into the driveway. Once we park, I grab my purse and hop out of the car. “They were just being a little crude. You know how I get with stuff like that. All blushy. Embarrassing.”

He laces an arm around my waist as I unlock the back door. “You must have been blushy about something…” he says, voice lilting. “Tell me.” 

“No,” I say, swatting him as we walk inside. “You’re nosy. I can keep some things to myself around here.” 

“Not true,” he says. “I know everything about you.” 

“Everything?” I ask, sounding curious. “What’re my favorite kind of underwear?” 

“Hipster,” he says. “Preferably with patterns. Your favorites are the navy ones with the white stars.” 

I pretend to scowl at him. “Lucky guess.” 

“I should know,” he says. “I fold them half the time.” 

“Oh!” I say. “Speaking of which, there’s a load of laundry I need to put in. Be right back.” 

“Baby…” he whines, following me. “Does that have happen right now? I know you’re stalling to get out of this conversation.” 

“No, I’m not,” I say, walking into the laundry room. “I left this basket here so I could put it in when we got home. And I’m thanking my past self right now.”

As I throw the clothes into the washer, Jackson leans on the doorjamb and watches me. 

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“I still haven’t given up on finding out what got you so flustered earlier,” he says.

I huff loudly and toss in the last of the clothes, then slide the empty basket off to the side. “Fine,” I say, then clear my throat. “Do you think our sex life is boring?” 

His eyebrows rocket to the ceiling. “What?” 

“You heard me,” I say, turning the knob on the washer to the correct setting. “Do I bore you? Jackson, your first time was a freakin’ threesome.” 

He makes a smug face and I kick his shin. “Babe,” he says, coming closer to hold my upper arms. “There’s nothing I love more than sex with you. Know why?” 

I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Because you’re my only one and even though you won’t admit it, you’re weirdly possessive and proud of that fact?” 

He holds in a smile. “Um… no,” he says. 

“Technically, yes,” I say. 

He chuckles darkly. “That’s supposed to stay unspoken,” he says. “But I was gonna say, I love it because I love you. Before you, I never had sex with someone who I was in love with. And I love every damn thing about you. From the freckle behind your ear to the one on the inside of your-” 

“Jackson.” 

“You get my point,” he says, sliding his hands around my waist to slip them inside the back pockets of my jeans. 

“We do it in bed, missionary, a lot,” I say, trailing my fingers down his chest. 

“Well, you’re on top sometimes,” he says. “Don’t give me all the credit.” 

I giggle but it turns into a pout. “But you know what I mean,” I say. 

“Wait,” he says. “Does this have something to do with what Robbins and Torres were saying?” 

My breath hitches in my throat. “Maybe,” I say. 

“Were they making you feel self-conscious?”

“No,” I ask. “Well, a little. But not in a bad way, necessarily. They kinda… they kinda made me curious.” 

“Curious?” 

I nod, my lower lip between my teeth. With the way he’s looking at me, I can already feel the heat pooling between my thighs. It’s making me feel bold, and I can’t ignore the question pressing at the forefront of my mind.

“Do you have a fantasy, baby?” I ask him, leaning back on the vibrating washer. 

He closes his eyes for a moment to center himself. 

“Because if you want, I can buy an outfit. I’ve heard of people doing that, I’d be willing to. You know, sexy teacher or-” 

“No,” he says. “I like you the way you are. You’re perfect.” 

“Okay…” I say, trailing my fingers down the buttons on his chest. “Then what? You don’t have one?” 

He chews on the inside of his cheek, and his expression is easy enough to read. He doesn’t think it’s going to fly, whatever it is. 

“Anything,” I say, blinking slowly. “The last thing I want is for our sex life to be boring.” I start undoing the first couple buttons. “I want to do this.” 

“Anything?” he says. 

“Mm-hmm,” I say. 

He lifts me up onto the washing machine, and I straighten my spine in response to how it feels pulsating beneath me. 

“It’s something I’ve never told anyone else I’ve been with,” he says, standing between my parted knees to run his hands up my thighs. 

“Okay,” I say. 

He locks his arms around my waist and presses his face into my neck, opening his mouth hot against my skin. I drag my fingers over his shoulder blades as low as I can reach, shoving my hips forward in search of friction. 

“I like being the boss,” he says. 

I purr, pressing my body closer. “Okay,” I murmur, lifting my head so he can kiss my throat. 

“Not hardcore BDSM and shit, not like the punishment room on whatever that fucked-up movie is,” he says, lips on my collarbone. “But I do like being the boss.” 

“I like when you’re the boss, too,” I whisper, running my fingers down the front of his shirt before pulling it off his arms. Once it’s off, I trail my fingers down his chest, over the pricks of his nipples, and lower to his defined abdomen. 

“Yeah?” he rasps, nipping at my jaw. “I’m not done.” 

I nod him along, eyelashes fluttering as he works on giving me a hickey. For once, I don’t tell him to stop, not to mark me. I want it. 

“I wanna spank you,” he says. “If you’d be into that.” 

I run my tongue over my bottom lip, feeling uncertainty and arousal course through my body and settle in my core. I nod shakily, tracing the shells of his ears. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

“I wanna try it,” I say. “Anything else?” 

“One more thing,” he says, getting me out of my pants quickly and setting me back on the washer.

“What’s that?” I ask, batting my eyelashes. 

“Call me daddy,” he says, his tone huskier than I’ve ever heard it. 

It takes a moment for me to wrap my head around what he’s asking. My thoughts take me to someplace totally wrong at first, but then I realize. This isn’t an incest-kink thing. This is a form of submission, which has gotten me hot up until this point. 

I don’t think I could go for ‘sir’ or ‘master,’ but ‘daddy’ might work. 

“Does that work?” he asks, hands sneaking up my torso to take two rough handfuls of my breasts. 

I shudder slightly, feeling my heartbeat migrate south. “Yes,” I say. 

His eyebrow twitches expectantly.

I smirk. “Yes, daddy,” I say.

He kisses me harder than he’s ever kissed me before, stealing all the breath away as he pulls my underwear off so fast that they rip. I had no idea that a simple word could turn him on so much, but I decide not to overthink it. This is too delicious to overthink. 

He slips his hand between my legs and rubs me, pressing the heel of his palm hard against the part of me that won’t stop throbbing. My mouth falls open against his and he kisses my chin, urging my head back so my neck is exposed. With much more given leeway, he sucks on my neck fluidly while still working his hand. 

He unclasps my bra and squeezes my breasts tight in his hands, digging the pads of his fingers in as he presses himself close to my body. I moan and arch my back, inhaling sharply as he pinches my nipples and makes them harden to two painful, desperate peaks. 

“Oh, god,” I moan, somewhat soothed when he covers one with his mouth. He moves lower, dragging his tongue over my stomach until he gets to the apex of my thighs, where he presses a slow, lasting kiss.

“You’re wet, kitten,” he says.

I like this more than I thought I would. I don’t know how to say it, though, so I just nod with my lip between my teeth. 

He’s not gentle when he sinks inside me. He snaps his hips forward and our bodies collide, so I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. 

He moves at a rapid pace, faster than he’s ever gone on me before, and I can barely keep up with all the sensations flowing through my body. He kisses me and creates a whole new fire inside me, using heavy teeth and tongue as I do my best to kiss him back. He’s almost rendered me completely incapable; I can’t concentrate on anything but the way he’s turning me inside out. 

As he gets closer to climax, he lays me back on the washer and my breasts bounce from the continual impact. I moan, long and drawn-out, as he holds tight to my hip bones and makes sure I know who’s boss. 

“Do you wanna come?” he asks, jaw set tight. 

I nod, unsure if I’m able to form words. It’s a miracle I can even move my head. 

“How bad?” he asks, slowing down the rate he’s pumping and switching his pace to deliberate and thorough. 

“Please, daddy,” I moan, sneaking one of my hands from where it was thrown above my head between my legs, but he forces it away and holds it down by the wrist. 

He grunts, his face shining with sweat, as he gives it to me with a few rough, final thrusts. I can’t help but scream with my orgasm, breaking the sound into disjointed sobs as my entire body trembles and pulls apart. 

I’ve never had an orgasm like that before. I swear I can feel it in every nerve ending. He must come, too - I can hear the sounds he makes - but I don’t feel him. I’m too lost in my own body.

We kiss all the way to the bedroom, stumbling as we make our way inside, and his hands find purchase on my ass. He squeezes the cheeks tight in his fingers and my core lights up again, remembering what he said earlier. 

And now, instead of being cautious, I want it. 

“You… you wanted to spank me,” I say, pulling my head away from his as his hands stay gripping my ass. 

“Are you okay with it?” he mutters, smoothing his hands over my skin. 

I nod.

“You sure?”

I nod again, letting out a slow exhale. 

“Okay,” he says, unraveling his arms from me as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “Come here. Lay across my lap.” 

My body tingles as I obey him. I rest my weight forward on my elbows with my ass in the air, unsure of what to expect. 

“If you want me to stop, just tell me,” I say. “And I’ll stop.” 

“Okay,” I whisper, letting my head fall forward. 

When his hand meets my flesh for the first time, there’s a resounding silence that follows. I bite my lip and clench my thighs, totally unaware that it would make me feel like this. I arch my back, in turn lifting my behind closer to him, and he smacks me again. 

My skin stings, and I’ve never felt pain so pleasurable. I can feel his erection under my body, so it’s obvious I’m not the only one who’s enjoying this. 

He rubs his palm in slow circles, then pats me a few times before landing down hard with another smack. I press my lips together and moan softly, gripping the comforter tight in my fists as his fingers slip between my legs and tease my outer lips. 

“Again,” I whimper, bending my knees and curving my spine.

I stop counting how many times his hand meets my sensitive skin, and I swear I almost come from that act alone. But before I can, he lifts me easily from his lap so my feet touch the floor and turns me around with my back facing him. 

“Bend over, kitten,” he growls. 

I bend over. 

He keeps a good hold on my hips when he buries himself inside me, scooping the front of his pelvis against the back of mine as he pushes as deep as he can. I feel his lips on the middle of my spine, taking small sections of my skin between his teeth as his hips buck forward. 

I fan my fingers out on the bed and try to match his rhythm. When my breath is lost and I’m closer than I’d like to admit, I hear his voice. 

“Aren’t you going to thank me for making you come so much?” he asks gruffly. 

I fall to my elbows, jolting forward with every snap of his hips. As I catch my breath, I smirk to myself and say, “Thank you, daddy.” 

He comes with a load groan, hands all over me as his body twitches. Mine finds release moments after when he rubs the electricity between my legs - and that’s all I need to be sent over the edge I was already so close to. 

In the shower when it’s over, we’re us again. Not that I didn’t like trying on the other versions of who we are in the bedroom, but his gentleness is welcomed after the aggressiveness that got me to come so hard I could barely stand. 

We kiss with my back pressed up against the slick tile, both arms wound low on his waist. I kiss his lower lip, his chin, the front of his chest over his heartbeat, as he weaves his fingers through my damp hair. 

“I liked that,” I whisper, looking coyly at him through my eyelashes. 

“I wish I would’ve asked sooner,” he says, turning so his lips move against my cheek. 

“Don’t worry,” I say, dragging my fingernails over his dripping skin. “We have all the time in the world.” 

The next morning when we walk into the hospital together, Jackson’s arm is tight around my waist. We walk past Callie and Arizona, whose argument seems to have carried over into today, and I throw them a smug look as I lean in close to my husband. 

Jackson raises his eyebrows at their hushed, angry voices, then looks back to me as we come to where we have to separate. 

“See you later?” he says, framing my face with one hand. 

I slink closer to him, palms against his chest as I lean to press my lips to his ear. I whisper, “Yes, daddy,” and throw a wave over my shoulder as he stands there and stares.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson aired his fantasy last time, but now it's April's turn to put in a request.

I hear the front door come open as I’m relaxing in the bath, hot water soothing me after a long day at the hospital. With my eyes closed, Jackson’s footsteps are easy to track as he makes his way inside the house and sets his stuff down. 

“In here,” I call, my voice slow and sleepy. 

The sound of his footsteps gets closer, and I know he’s in the room when I smell his cologne.

“What a sight to come home to,” he says, and I blink open my heavy eyelids. 

“Hi, honey,” I say, smiling softly as he crouches next to the tub. He holds the side of my face in one hand and kisses me slowly, swiping my cheekbone with his thumb. As his lips move against mine, his hand slips lower so his fingers can ghost over my nipple and tease it to a peak. 

I chuckle against his lips and move his fingers away. 

“Come in here with me,” I say, batting my eyelashes. “There are some spots I can’t reach.” 

He gets to his feet, shaking his head while wearing a smile. “I wish I could,” he says. “But you and I both know if I get in there, we’ll be late for the gala.” 

I sigh, knowing he’s right. And I’ve been looking forward to this gala for a while, being held at the fanciest restaurant in Seattle to honor Grey Sloan. I bought a new dress for the occasion, and I’ve been anxious to wear it. 

“I know,” I say, stepping out of the tub dripping wet and naked. His eyes follow me as I walk to grab a towel, and I know he can’t resist. When his arms wrap around me from behind, I’m not surprised at all.

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” he growls, arms tight on me. I open my mouth in a gasp, eyeing him over my shoulder. “And if you keep being such a tease, I’m gonna have to spank you.” 

I shudder, getting out of him exactly what I wanted. 

“Maybe you should,” I say, wriggling out of his arms and leaning forward with my palms braced on the bathroom counter. I arch my back, ass out towards him, and he licks his lips while bracing one hand in the middle of my spine. 

“Tell me what you did wrong,” he says.

I exhale shakily, feeling heat pool between my thighs. I lick my lips and bite the lower one, then glance over my shoulder to look into his eyes when I say, “I shouldn’t have tempted you, daddy.” 

He spanks me hard; so hard, I lose my breath and let my head drop forward. 

“One’s enough,” he says, rubbing his palm over my stinging skin. “Learned your lesson?” 

I stand up straight and reach for my robe. “Maybe,” I say, shrugging into the sleeves as I breeze past. 

He groans quietly, and when I look at him through the mirror I see that his head is thrown back, jaw clenched. We both like it when he dominates me, but on a deeper level, I know I’m the one who’s really in control.

My dress is long, black with jewel detailing on the top half, and a slit up the side of the skirt. After it’s on and my hair is professionally done by someone Jackson hired to come to the house, I feel like a different person. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, slinking up behind me in the floor-length mirror with his tie lying open around his neck. 

“Thank you,” I say, turning with his arms still wound around my waist. I take the tie and start tying it, going slow in a way I know must torture him. 

“You know I’m a tie expert, don’t you?” he asks. “I can do that myself.” 

“But I don’t want you to,” I say, grazing my fingertips over his neck. In a moment, my lips replace my fingers and I press slow, gentle kisses to his throat, above the collar of his white dress shirt. 

“Something’s gotten into you tonight…” he says, trailing his hands lower to rest on my ass. 

I skim my palms over his strong chest, rubbing up and down. While still kissing his neck, I press my body flush to his and ask, “Do you like it, daddy?” 

I feel the reverberations of his moan through his skin, and open my mouth to draw my tongue over his Adam’s apple. His fingers fiddle with the tiny zipper in the middle of my back, tempted to pull it down and expose me, but he doesn’t. I knew he wouldn’t. We have to get going. 

“We don’t want to be late, kitten,” he says, voice rumbling. 

I look at him, face flushed. Tonight will be interesting.

Jackson and I are placed at a table with Callie and Arizona, who are sitting down just as we arrive. Jackson pulls my chair out for me and I smile, biting the corner of my lip as I lower to sit. 

“April, you look gorgeous,” Arizona says. “And Jackson, you sure clean up nice.” 

“Kepner, you didn’t tell us you had a body like that,” Callie says. “You should show it off more. It’s killer.” 

I don’t know how to receive these compliments, so I blush. I feel Jackson’s hand on my thigh, squeezing almost the entire thing in his fingers. 

“I’ve been waiting a while to wear it,” I say, skimming my hands down the smooth fabric. “I’m glad I finally got to.” 

“So’s he,” Arizona says, tipping her head towards my husband. “Jackson’s practically drooling.” 

Callie laughs and I lean into Jackson playfully. He doesn’t do anything to dispel it, he just tightens his grip on my thigh and shrugs.

“I’m a sucker for a beautiful woman,” he says, never taking his eyes off me. “This one, especially.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Callie says, eyes flitting between the two of us.

“That she does,” he agrees, and my face turns completely red.

We each order a glass of wine - red for him, white for me - before the food comes. There’s a steady flow of people giving speeches from the stage, but to me that’s only background noise. 

“Do you want to try mine?” he asks, offering me his goblet. 

“Thank you,” I say, holding the stem gracefully. He watches me touch the thin rim of the glass to my lips and take a small sip of wine, swallowing while holding steady eye contact. “Delicious,” I say.

“Agreed,” he says, eyes skimming lower and landing on my chest. 

“Guys,” Arizona laughs. “Get a damn room.” 

“Your eye-fucking is getting obscene,” Callie says, glancing over. 

I can’t find it within myself to be embarrassed; I’m much too turned on. 

When the food comes, Richard is welcomed to the stage to give his yearly speech about the hospital and its improvements. He’ll thank its suppliers, the board, the annual donors, and say the same things he always does. 

My eyes nearly glaze over until I feel Jackson’s hand on my thigh again. My body tenses as his fingers slip beneath the slit on the skirt and trace the lace trim of my panties, and I take in a tiny gasp. 

Tiny, but Arizona hears it. She turns to look at me with a confused expression on her face. “Is Richard’s speech that moving?” she says, smiling. “He says the same thing every year.” 

“Right,” I say, trembling. I clench my thighs and trap Jackson’s fingers, but they keep moving. 

Arizona looks back towards the stage and Jackson slips his hand inside the front of my panties, teasing apart my lips and dipping one finger inside to circle the throbbing bundle of nerves. 

I press my lips together and look at him for the first time, and his eyes are flashing with mischief. I grip his knee as his fingers move tighter, quicker, then he whispers in my ear, “Don’t come yet.”

I’ve never been more thankful for Richard’s speech, because Callie and Arizona’s focus is elsewhere, not paying attention to what’s happening just behind them.

“Yes, daddy,” I whisper, so low I can barely hear myself. 

He pumps his fingers slowly, grazing the pads over what’s pulsating every time he slips back in. I’m fully aware of how wet he’s made me, so much so that I’ve soaked straight through the fabric of my underwear. There’s no saving these now.

When everyone erupts into applause at the end of the speech, he pushes his thumb roughly against my clit and I jolt forward and orgasm while trying my best to clap for our chief of surgery. The desperate sounds I make are lost in the noise of the room, and when Callie and Arizona turn back around, Jackson’s hand is out from under my skirt and he’s subtly sucking what he’s done from his fingertips. 

“April, you’re flushed,” Arizona says, eyes darting between my face and my open chest. “You alright?” 

“Fever, maybe?” Callie asks.

“No fever,” I say. “Just… it’s hot in here.” I clear my throat. “Maybe I should go freshen up.”

I stand from my chair and swipe my fingers along the backs of Jackson’s shoulders, silently telling him what I want and hoping he picks up my cue. I throw a glance over my shoulder as I walk out of the banquet hall and into the quiet corridor, seeing the women’s bathroom at the end. 

Inside doesn’t look like a normal restroom. There’s an area preceding with a couch and a few armchairs; it’s more like a powder room than a public bathroom. I walk past the chairs to stand in front of the mirror, and take my powder out of my clutch to dab some on my cheeks. 

I hear the door only moments later, and my heartbeat speeds up. 

“Is that you?” I call.

I see Jackson appear in the mirror behind me, hands in his pockets, looking dapper as ever.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” he asks, voice smooth. 

I click my powder shut. “Never,” I say, and turn around so the counter cuts into the small of my back. 

He takes a few steps closer, trapping me, and presses his hips flush to mine. I can feel how excited he is already. 

“You drove me crazy out there,” I say, feeling his breath on my neck. He skims his hands up my hips to the dip of my waist, where he holds on tight. I let my eyes flutter shut and sigh as his lips meet my pulse point, kissing me softly but with purpose. I run my hands over his chest, under his suit jacket, and trace the pricks of his nipples with my thumbs. “You wanna know what  _ my _ fantasy is?” I ask.

“What’s that, kitten?” he asks, holding me tighter. 

“I want you to take me… here,” I whisper.

“Where someone could walk in and catch us?” 

My eyes flit to the bathroom stall and he understands without me having to spell it out.

“Where someone could walk in and catch us,” I repeat. 

He groans, the sound emanating from his throat, and I can see the strain at the front of his pants as I work on slowly untucking his shirt. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches me sink to my knees, undoing the button of his dress pants and slipping them down his hips until they pool around his ankles. 

“Let me make you feel good first,” I say, then open my mouth on the bulge in his boxer-briefs. 

The sounds from the party just a room away are still easy to hear. The bass of the music thumps through the wall, the rise and fall of voices wafts through the air. It only propels me further. 

He’s already fully hard as he leans back against the counter, and I lower even further onto my knees before him. I swipe my thumb over the head of his penis, using his own fluid as lubrication, then press a slow, wet kiss to where my touch had just been. 

He takes a firm handful of my hair at the base of my skull, pulling on it so a twinge of pain shoots down my spine. I lick my lips, glance up and make eye contact, then take as much of him as I can into my mouth. 

When his hips start to move and the tip hits the back of my throat, I do my best in keeping up with help from my hand. As much as I want to please him, my gag reflex is much too sensitive for him to go as far as both of us would like. It just won’t happen. But I can make him come without deep-throating him, and he knows that. 

I pull my mouth off and swirl my tongue around the tip, feeling the muscles in his abdomen and groin tighten. “You’re close, daddy,” I murmur, kissing the shaft as I look at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. “I want you to come.” 

His fingers tighten even deeper in my hair as I suck on him hard, hollowing out my cheeks until I feel the heat from his body spill into my own. He yanks on my hair so my neck is taut and my head pulls up, and I smile as my chest heaves with exertion and arousal. 

He pulls me to a standing position and attacks my mouth in rough kisses, seemingly trying to devour me whole. I give myself to him, pressing my torso to his and feeling his hands map over my back and lower to my ass. 

“I need to fuck you, kitten,” he growls, and I gasp when I see the hungry look in his eyes. 

We move into a bathroom stall and slam the door shut behind us, and he immediately gathers the material of my dress to bunch it around my waist. When the cool air hits my hot, bare skin, a chill runs through my body and I arch my back in response, trying to get as close to him as possible. 

He slams my back against the wall and I whimper, my knees going weak before he even touches me. He takes my wrists and lifts them above my head, holding both with one hand. 

“Keep them there.” 

My eyes flash. “And if I don’t?” 

He smacks the side of my thigh, just hard enough. “Then I’ll have to punish you,” he says. 

Jackson pulls my underwear down my legs and slips his hand between my thighs, drawing his fingers over my lips slowly. 

“You’re practically dripping,” he says, voice husky. “Tell me how bad you want it.” 

I bend my elbows and rest my shoulders against the wall, hips tilted forward. “So bad,” I mutter, biting my lower lip. 

He leans forward and opens his mouth on the swell of my breast, drawing his tongue over the soft skin and sucking portions of it between his teeth. He moves higher to my neck, where he bites my pulse point and makes me moan. 

“I want to hear how bad,” he growls, palming my breast roughly with one hand.

My whole body is hot, flushed with how turned on I am. Sex with him is the only thing on my mind - I’m incapable of thinking about anything else. All I want to do is please him and be pleasured in return.

I want him to give it to me until I can’t stand, can’t see straight. 

“Please fuck me, daddy,” I breathe, and watch him take a deep breath as his pupils dilate. 

He situates his hands under my thighs and lifts me up in one easy motion, and I tighten my legs around his hips. As he’s about to push inside me, I lower my arms and hold his face, opening my mouth so I can kiss him. But before I can, he lets go of my thighs and my feet hit the ground again. 

“I told you to keep your arms where I put them,” he says.

I blink innocently at him and raise them above my head again, but he shakes his head.

“Not good enough,” he says, and works on undoing his tie. 

I move my hands to his neck to help him. “Do you want me to-” 

“You keep your hands to yourself,” he says, pinning my wrists against the wall on either side of my head. I can’t help but smile slyly, taking in a sharp breath. “Like I told you.” 

“Yes, daddy,” I whisper, watching him undo his tie with concise, deliberate movements. When it’s off, he reaches my wrists and ties an intricate knot behind my back that will keep them together. 

After they’re tied, he grabs my waist and flips me around so the front of my body is pressed against the cool wall. He gathers the material of my skirt again and sinks inside me quickly, smacking the side of my ass as he does.

My mouth falls open and I push my hips back into him, but he pins me with his body tight against the back of mine. I can feel his muscles flexing, asserting his dominance and reminding me who’s in control. With my cheek pressed against the tile and my arms behind my back, he pounds into me with every ounce of strength he has. 

I feel his breath against my neck, coming in small puffs as he thrusts. I open my mouth as my eyes roll back into my head, feeling my pulse go wild as he somehow moves even faster, pumps even harder. 

I let out a desperate-sounding whimper as his fingers dig into my hips, pulling me back towards him at a sharper angle. 

“You broke a rule, princess,” he says, and the new pet name lights me up inside. “You know what happens when you break a rule.” 

“I get punished,” I say, breath coming unevenly. 

“That’s right,” he says. “Good girl.” 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” I say, moaning as he hits just the right spot inside me. “I’ll-I’ll do better next time.” 

“I know you will,” he says, shoving his hips against mine as he comes, bucking and jerking erratically without having to wait much longer for my orgasm. 

He pulls out as I’m still twitching, panting against the wall, and turns me around. With my wrists still tied behind my back, he lowers to his knees and tosses one of my legs over his shoulder, kissing the inside of my knee all the way up to my center, which is still throbbing hard. 

“You deserve some special treatment, too, princess,” he says, licking a wide path up my inner thigh and collecting the remnants of my orgasm. “God, you taste so good. You are so, so good.” 

I throw my head back when he opens his mouth on my core, sucking languidly and running his tongue over the seam of my lips. I wish I could touch him, pull on his hair, run my fingers over his scalp and pull him against me, but it almost makes it even more delicious that I can’t. 

Even when he’s giving me everything, he’s still the boss. 

With his mouth still on me, the main door to the bathroom comes open and we both hear it. I freeze, the leg over his shoulder tensing, and his fingertips dig into the round of my ass. 

“I don’t know where they went, no.” It’s Arizona’s voice, assumedly talking to Callie. “They just disappeared.” 

“Probably left to go home and have sex,” Callie says. “Jesus, did you see them?” 

“Kinda makes me jealous, I’ll admit it,” Arizona says. 

The door to our bathroom stall reaches the ground. There’s no way they can see our feet, or Jackson’s knees for that matter, and his mouth hasn’t left my body. He’s making it harder and harder for me to stay quiet. 

His lips circle my clit and he runs his tongue over it, which makes me gasp. I tighten my leg on his shoulder, pulling him closer, and he digs his fingers in harder as he smiles against me. 

When he sucks harder, sparks light up behind my eyes and I lose control of myself. “Oh…” I moan, and hear the high-heeled steps stop outside. 

“April?” Arizona asks, sounding confused. “Are you in here? Are you okay?”

Jackson pressed slow, wet kisses inside me as he parts my lips with two fingers, using the other one to massage my ass. My eyes rocket to the ceiling as I chew on my lower lip, begging my voice to come out normally. 

“I’m - fine,” I say, disjointedly. 

Jackson rubs his thumb over my clit and my hips jolt against his working hand. He smiles because of it. 

“You’ve been gone for a while,” Arizona says. “We were getting worried.” 

I let out a rattled sigh as he covers me with his mouth again, pressing on that same spot rhythmically with his tongue. 

“We - I’ll be right out,” I breathe, tilting my hips up. With that final movement, he sucks my clit fully into his mouth and works it hard, and I can barely contain myself. “Oh! Sh- I…god, I’ll be right out!” 

“Okay…” Arizona says, sounding concerned and confused. 

When the door closes again, Jackson chuckles and presses light, sporadic kisses to my thighs and my hot, pulsating center. 

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he asks, pulling my underwear back up and letting the skirt of my dress fall. 

As he unties my wrists, I fall forward to rest against his chest. “Yes,” I murmur, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you, daddy.” 

We come out of the stall and I do my best in fixing myself, but I’m beyond repair. We can’t stay - we have to go home. And when we get there, he’ll probably take me again. 

I’m already looking forward to it. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, I jump when I see Callie and Arizona standing nearby. Their eyes light up with recognition when they see me, but a different expression crosses their face when the door opens again and Jackson comes out behind me. 

We don’t bother stopping to talk to them - they’re smart people and are capable of putting together what happened. I’m sure my messy hair and flushed skin only help with their reasoning. 

“Have a good night,” Jackson says, throwing the words over his shoulder as he tightens his arm around my waist. As he walk, he presses his face into my hair and says right into my ear, “I know we did.” 


	3. Part 3

“I still don’t think this should happen,” Jackson says. 

“You can think that all you want,” I say, walking towards the scrub room. “But Riggs agreed with my proposal, and the surgery got approved.” 

“She has third degree burns over half her body!” he says, eyes darkening. “She’s not stable enough.” 

“Riggs knows what he’s doing,” I say. “And so do I.” I narrow my eyes. “Stop undermining me.” 

“You undermined me in front of the patients and our colleagues,” he says. 

“Because I was right,” I say, eyebrows quirked. “And that pisses you off, doesn’t it?” 

His face is pinker than usual. I know I’m pushing his buttons, and I love it. I knew I was pushing them earlier, too. I wanted to fight for this patient to get the surgery, but I also knew exactly how to get Jackson to his breaking point. It involved force, and I wasn’t afraid to exert it. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he mutters. 

I pause in front of the scrub room door. He won’t be following me - this isn’t his place anymore. His procedure has to wait. 

“Good,” I say. “See you at home.” 

The surgery ends up going extremely well. Five hours later, after it’s over, I seek Jackson out to tell him how it went, but get word that he already left. So, I get in my car and head home too, prepared to meet him.

When I get there, there’s a basketball game on TV and the house smells like reheated leftovers. I know for a fact Jackson hates leftovers, so if he resorted to eating them for dinner, that means he must be really pissed at me. I’m excited by the thought. 

“I’m home,” I call, slipping my shoes off by the door. 

I don’t even get a grunt in response. I look at the back of his his head as he faces the TV, one arm stretched across the back of the couch, and smirk to myself. I have a plan.

In my dress pants and pink blouse, I walk to the living room. I look at his profile as he concentrates on the screen, then sit down without giving him any personal space. He’s in soft gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt - much more comfortable than I am.

“I thought you were gonna wait for me,” I say, leaning towards him and pressing a flat hand to his chest. 

“You said ‘see you at home,’” he says, eyes unmoving. “I assumed that meant, ‘see you at home.’”

I chuckle to myself. “You’re so pissed,” I say. 

“Yeah, and?” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” he says. “Not really.” 

“Okay,” I say sweetly. “We don’t have to talk.” I pause for a moment, trailing my hand lower to roughly cup him between the legs. “Want me to suck you off, daddy?” I press my lips close to his ear. “It’ll make you feel better.” 

He grows in my palm almost instantly, meeting my eyes with dilated pupils as I move my hand up and down to make him even harder. Gracefully, I sink to my knees on the carpet, situated between his parted legs, and pull his sweatpants down to pool around his ankles.

He scoots forward on the couch cushion, one hand behind his head for support while he uses the other one to push on the back of my head. I yank his boxers down, looking up periodically, and he directs me lower. 

“Take it, baby girl,” he says. “Take the whole fuckin’ thing.” 

I wrap my lips around head and suck hard, causing his hips to buck and more length to disappear into my mouth. He grabs a handful of my hair, holding on tight as I run my tongues over the veins of his penis, paying special attention to what I know drives him crazy. 

Under the noise from the game on TV are the wet sounds of my mouth against him and his guttural moans as his hips grind against my face. I watch his expression, seeing the lines on his forehead smooth out as he gets closer and closer to climax, and dip my hand between his thighs to gently massage his balls. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. 

“Does that feel good, daddy?” I ask, practically purring.

“So damn good.” 

I stop the motion of my hands and mouth, pulling away just as he was about to come. I sit back on my knees, smiling deviously and batting my eyelashes. 

“What’re you doing?” he asks. “I was about to-” 

“I know,” I say, wiping my mouth as I sit back on the couch. “I’m not gonna finish.” 

He sits up straighter, erection still stiff against his stomach. I can’t help looking at it, staring really. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t feel like it,” I say, leaning forward so my shirt dips low, showcasing the cleavage I created. “Are you gonna punish me now, daddy?” 

His eyes flash. “When you break a rule, you suffer the consequences,” he says, tucking himself back into his sweatpants. “Bedroom.” 

Heat pools between my thighs, and we both stand so I can follow him to our room. Our sex life has been so alive since we brought this fantasy to life - sparking things inside me I never knew existed. If my friends knew how wild we were in the bedroom, their heads would fly off. 

After we’re inside, I start on the buttons of my shirt, but he stops me before I can even get the first one undone. “Stop,” he says. “I’m the one who undresses you.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed, knees spread wide. He pulls me by the hips to stand in front of him and palms my ass through my tight dress pants, digging his fingers roughly into the supple skin. He undoes each button slowly, carefully, untucking the fabric once he gets to the bottom, then pushes it to either side so my white, lacy bra is exposed. 

“Virginal,” he says, pushing the sleeves down my arms. 

He takes off my pants, too, and next come my bra and underwear. Soon, I’m left standing completely naked and practically trembling from arousal. 

“Come here, kitten,” he says, pulling me to sit forward on his lap. I do, spreading my knees wide to straddle him, keeping my back straight as a board. With his lips pressed to my sternum, he orders, “Touch yourself.”

I meet his eyes and he nods me along, guiding my wrist from my side to rest between my legs. Excited by the look on his face, I nudge my lips apart with my fingers and slip two inside, curling them to gently graze my clit with every stroke. My eyelids flutter and my hips move involuntarily, encouraging the ministrations from my hand. I take my lower lip between my teeth and palm my breast with my free hand, squeezing so tight that my mouth drops open and I gasp.

“No,” Jackson says, pulling that hand away. “Just one.” 

“Yes, daddy,” I breathe, feeling his gaze on me even though my eyes are closed. 

“Leave that to me,” he says, and I jolt when I feel his teeth come down on my breast. He sucks it hard into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and making wet sounds against my skin, pulling at my lower back so it arches towards him. 

My fingers go quicker, along with the pace of his tongue on my nipple. My hips are fully thrusting now, I’m desperate for an orgasm, but in one swift motion he yanks my wrist away so I’m forced to stop what I’m doing.

“What…” 

“You don’t get to come yet,” he says gruffly, pinning my arms behind my back. “I didn’t get to, so you don’t, either.”

I look at him, blanched. My chest is still flushed and heaving from what almost just happened. 

“What do you say?” he prompts, expectantly. 

I take a shuddering breath. “Yes, daddy,” I whisper. 

“Good girl,” he says, then lifts me from his lap and practically tosses me onto the bed.

I brace myself with my hands, having lost my breath for a second, and look back at him. He’s gathering a cylindrical throw pillow from the corner, one that he comes back and uses to prop up my hips so my ass is in the air. 

“Don’t move,” he says. “Stay just like that. Spread your legs, princess. Just a little.” 

I feel his hand between my thighs, rubbing slowly, and I take a deep breath. I close my eyes and tilt my hips a bit so he has better leverage, and the motion of his hand gets quicker and rougher, running the heel of his palm over my slick skin until I start making sounds I can’t control. 

With my ass tilted the way it is, he spanks me. Hard. So hard that my hands fly out to either sides of my body and grip the sheets tight in my fists, moaning with my mouth open and eyes pinched shut tight. 

“Tell me what you did,” he says, spanking me again. 

I moan louder, feeling the skin start to sting in the delicious way I love. I can’t get enough of it. 

“I don’t know,” I say, teasing him. 

His hand working between my legs slows down, dragging his fingers over my lips without slipping inside. I edge closer to him, but he shoves me away and lands the other hand down on my ass again, making me whimper from the impact. 

“Tell me,” he says. 

I sigh and moan loudly. “I didn’t let you come, daddy,” I say. 

“Should I spank you again?” 

I nod shakily. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, daddy. I’ve been such a bad girl.” 

“Yes,” he says. “You have.”

The last smack makes sparks shoot behind my eyes, and immediately after, his mouth finds the red, irritated skin and his tongue laves over where he punished me. He sucks the skin into his mouth, breaking away with popping sounds, and grabs my hips with intensity, forcing them back towards his face. 

With his tongue on my outer lips, he starts eating me out from behind. I press up onto my elbows, curving my spine to give him more leeway, and his warmth finds its way inside. I groan with my lips pressed together, eyelashes fluttering, rhythmically and subtly pumping my hips back towards his working mouth. 

“That feels so good, daddy,” I say. “You’re so good to me.” 

“Just wait, princess,” he says, and my eyes fly open when I feel his tongue somewhere else. He spreads my cheeks and uses his tongue to lick the other hole - the one no one’s ever touched, and I don’t have the mental clarity to tell him to stop. I don’t want him to stop, not once he starts, because I’ve never felt something this euphoric in my life.

I can’t form thoughts, let alone words. My mind is blacked out as his tongue works against me, against a place I never knew was so sensitive and pleasurable.

My breath doesn’t come easily. “Yes, daddy,” I pant, my forehead against the mattress. “Yes! Please, more, daddy… oh, my god, I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come… I’m gonna-”

My elbows collapse when my orgasm rips through me like a tidal wave, causing seemingly every muscle to go slack and fail so I fall flat onto the side of my face. He sees me down from it, kissing the backs of my thighs and squeezing my waist, showing off from what he was able to reduce me to. 

“What did you…” I breathe.

“Don’t ask questions, kitten,” he says, rising to his knees and tossing the pillow under my hips aside. He pulls me to my knees and I do my best to bring myself back to center, preparing to have another orgasm from how hard he’s going to pound me. Because I know he will. 

The only slow, careful movement is the initial thrust when he slips inside me. I stretch to accommodate him, loving the way he fills me, and he grips my hips and starts working up to a quicker pace, jolting me forward with every forceful grind. 

I don’t try and hold back the sounds I make. I let my head fall forward and feel his hand come down hard behind me, moaning after he does. 

“I fucking love your ass,” he says. “It bounces right back. It’s fuckin’ hot.” 

I nod, whining with my mouth open and my eyebrows skyrocketed to the ceiling. I tilt my hips higher and he moves rougher, faster, gripping a fistful of my hair for good measure. 

“Tell me how much you like it,” he growls, making my neck taut with how hard he pulls my hair.

“So much,” I whimper. “I love it when you go in raw, daddy."

“That’s what I thought,” he says, spanking me again. He lets go of my hair to press down between my shoulder blades, putting me at an incline with my face to the comforter. He keeps me that way, his hand staying where it is, and makes a low sound in his throat. “Mmm…” he says. “You look so goddamn sexy when I’m fucking you.” 

My mind has turned to mush. All I can think about is how amazing this feels, how amazing he is, and what a masterpiece he’s made my body feel like. When he comes, the rhythm of his thrusts grows erratic and disjointed, keeping still for long moments before pumping again. He stays inside until I come for a second time, kissing and nipping at my back while he keeps me pressed down onto the bed. 

When he pulls out, my legs are quaking and I know if I tried to walk, I would end up falling on my face. I’m surprised I haven’t gone completely numb. He pulls me up to my hands and knees, then helps me lay on my side so he can wrap his arms around me, one of my legs tucked between both of his. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asks. 

I smile to myself, amused at how different he is once we come down from that sexual high. 

“I’m fine, baby,” I whisper, stroking the sides of his face with my knuckles. “I’m great.”

He turns his head and kisses my fingers individually, stroking my wrist gently. “You’re amazing,” he says. 

“So are you.” I clear my throat softly. “Um… what was that… thing you…” 

A glint appears in his eyes. “You loved that, didn’t you?” 

“I…” 

“I’ve never heard you moan like that before,” he says. “You were shaking, baby.” He pushes my hair away from my ear so he can speak right against it. “I ate your ass.” 

My eyes widen and I shove him away by the chest. “Jackson!” I hiss. 

He laughs. “What?” he says. “I did. And you loved it. Oh, my god, you were pleading for more.” He reaches low and roughly grabs my ass. “Want me to do it again? See how much you liked it?”

“No,” I say, pretending to be upset but pulling him closer anyway. 

“You won’t be saying that next time,” he says, face in my neck. “You’ll be begging for it.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Your body can’t lie, princess,” he says, slipping the term in. “And that might’ve been the second-biggest orgasm I’ve ever given you.” 

I drag my fingertips over the dip of his spine. “What was the first?” I ask. 

He nuzzles his nose against my collarbone, tongue sneaking out to trace it. “Haven’t gotten there yet.” 


	4. Part 4

**_JACKSON_ **

I’ve never been at a duller conference. 

It doesn’t help that my phone is going off - it’s past dinnertime and April is back in Seattle, at the house, alone. Bored, too. But she, at least, can do something about it. 

I unlock my phone under the table as everyone else’s attention is at the front of the room to see that I have four unread text messages from her, all of which are previewed on the home screen. 

**RECEIVED 8:03pm- i miss you baby ;)**

**RECEIVED 8:04pm- like really miss you. Really really really miss you. The sexy kind of miss you ;)**

**RECEIVED 8:06pm- im just laying here in bed… on your side, thinking about what youd be doing to me if you were here. I cant stop thinking about it. Pretty sure im already wet…**

**RECEIVED 8:06pm- yeah, definitely wet ;)**

I purse my lips and clench my thighs tightly together, quelling the blood flow between my legs.

With a sly glance to make sure no one’s looking, I text her back. 

**SENT 8:08pm- are you seriously trying to sext me right now?**

**RECEIVED 8:08pm- trying… i hoped it was more than trying… did it work?**

My fingers are poised over the keyboard, debating my response. She’s been eager and willing to try nearly anything in the bedroom, but I want to push her a little further to something she hasn’t yet done.

**SENT 8:10pm- i dont know. Sent me a pic and lets see.**

My leg bounces as I wait for her reply. When I see the typing bubble come up, my heart rate quickens and I can’t help but smile as I read her response. 

**RECEIVED 8:11pm- yes daddy. One moment please :)**

When the picture comes through, I close my eyes for a long moment and my dick hardens in my pants, creating a strain on the crotch that I have to lean forward to hide. 

She’s wearing nothing - nothing at all - most of her face cropped out of the photo. Everything except for her mouth. She has one arm under her breasts, propping them up, nipples flushed pink and hard. Her ribs are showing through the creamy skin of her torso, and one hand is tucked between her thighs, hiding what I what to see most. 

Her lips are pulled into a coy smile, half of the lower one pulled by her top teeth. She knows exactly what she’s doing. 

I hurriedly get up from the table, which startles the guests surrounding, but I don’t make eye contact with any of them. I get up without a word and head towards the bathroom. They can’t say anything about going to the bathroom, even if what I plan on doing there is far from conventional. 

I close the door behind me and the din from the conference is silenced. I shut myself in a stall and lean against the door after pressing April’s contact and waiting a single ring for her to answer. 

“Hi, daddy,” she says, voice low and seductive.

“Are you trying to kill me, April?” I ask, keeping my voice down. 

“You said to send you a picture,” she says, giggling. “And you know I’m not one to disobey.” 

I let my head fall so the back of it rests against the tile wall. “God, I wish I weren’t here right now,” I groan. 

She sighs, soft and breathy. “Tell me where you’d rather be.” 

“Between your thighs, that’s where,” I say, the words tumbling out. “Fuck.” I look down and see that the bulge in my pants is extremely obvious. I wish she were here to run the heel of her palm over it in the way she knows I like - rough and confident while she sits on top of me. “Go get the vibrating panties,” I say. “Put them on.” 

Her breath hitches a bit. “Are we seriously doing this?” she asks. 

“What do you say?” I prompt.

The tone of her voice changes when she responds, “Yes, daddy.” I hear movement and rustling sounds, then she comes back. “I put them on,” she says.

“Sit,” I say. “So there’s some friction.”

“I am,” she says. “In your favorite chair. I don’t have anything else on.” 

“Good,” I say.

I wish I had the remote, but of course it wouldn’t work over the hundreds of miles between us. She’s going to have to act as my hands, and I know she’ll do it. She loves being submissive under the sheets - dominant everywhere else. 

“Turn it on low,” I say. 

If I really listen, I can hear the low hum of the vibrator working against her. But what’s clearer is her pitchy whimper, followed by a long sigh. I can picture her body twisting as she gets comfortable with the sensation, spine curving as the feeling works its way through her. 

“It’s on, daddy,” she says. “Mmm, it feels good. It feels really good.” She takes a shaky inhale. “What’re you wearing?” 

“The suit you love,” I say. “Black pants, black shirt, black tie, black jacket.” 

“God, you look so sexy in that,” she says. “Can I turn this up?” 

“No,” I say sternly. “Keep it on low.” 

She whines, so quiet I can barely hear, but obeys. 

“I know you’re in the bathroom,” she says. “If I were there, you’d be in the exact same spot. I can never keep my hands off you when you look… that… good,” she whispers. “Just like at the hospital gala. When I sucked you off right by the sinks, out in the open where anyone could walk in on us.” She moans, sounding a bit desperate. “I love sucking your dick, daddy.” 

I undo my pants so they fall to the ground, then shove my hand into my boxers and start working. 

“I love that vein, the big one,” she says, and I can practically feel her tongue moving over it. “I love your strong thighs wrapped around me while I have my mouth on you, keeping me there, not letting me move… when you push the back of my head because it just feels so good…” 

I bite my lower lip hard. “Keep going, kitten,” I grunt. 

“I love when you’re so hard, so big I can barely get my hand around it,” she purrs. “Do you have your hand on it, daddy?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Pump slow,” she says. “Just like I would. Because I don’t want you to come like that, I always wanna wait ‘til you’re inside me, and I can feel you shoot off hot and strong, deep inside my body while you have your hands pinning down my wrists… oh, my god. I love it when you fuck me, daddy. Can you feel how tight and wet I am for you? I’m so turned on, I’ll let you do anything to me. Anything you want.” 

“Jesus Christ,” I moan, still going slow. “I’m almost there, princess.” 

“I want you to come,” she says. “Come for me, come inside me... Show me who’s boss, pin me down and fuck me, daddy.” 

With one last stroke, my fist wrapped tight around my dick, I shoot my load and keep pumping until I have no strength left. My come is all over my hand, wrist, and fabric of my underwear, but I can’t catch my breath quick enough to care. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and I know she still needs to get there. 

“Turn the setting higher,” I say. “All the way.” 

“All the way?” she repeats, sounding intimidated. 

“You heard me.” 

“Yes, daddy,” she says, and I can hear the sly smile in her voice. I know she’s done it, because the moan that comes from her is animalistic. “Oh, god, it’s up.” 

I grin. “Use your hand,” I say. “Push the vibrating part against your clit and work it in circles.” 

When she does, she nearly sobs in ecstasy. “I am,” she cries. 

“Pretend it’s my mouth,” I say. “It’s my mouth, eating you out, which is my favorite thing to do. You’re wrapping your thighs around my head, keeping me right there, while I shove two fingers deep inside you and fuck you that way while giving you the best head you’ve ever had in your life.”

Her breathing doesn’t come easy and she whines as she gets closer and closer. 

“Don’t come yet,” I say. “You have to push my head away because it’s too much, you’re feeling way too much, but I come back.” I smirk. “I always come back. Pretend I’m there, eating you like you’re the last meal on earth. Sucking on your clit in the gentle way you like, while still fucking you with my fingers, and-” 

She comes. I hear her let it go with a burst of a scream, can practically picture her flopping back onto the bed, chest flushed and heaving. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she pants. “I know you said not to, but it was right there, I couldn’t stop it… oh, my god.” 

I pull up my pants and lick my lips. “It’s okay, kitten,” I say, leaning on the door in preparation to leave. “I’ll punish you when I get home.” 

**_APRIL_ **

When Jackson gets home from his conference two nights later, I’m in the bath with lit candles surrounding the tub. With my hair tied up in a bun away from my face and a glass of wine in hand, I couldn’t be more relaxed if I tried. 

When he walks in the bathroom door, he’s dressed in his typical travel outfit - jeans and a hoodie. He looks exhausted, but a smile graces his lips when he sees me. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, bending at the waist to drop a kiss on my hairline. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you so much,” I say, setting the wine down to watch him. “I’m happy you’re home.” 

“Believe me,” he says, wandering into the closet to drop his suitcase in there. “I am, too.” 

“It was too quiet around here without you.”

“You?” he says. “Quiet?” 

I giggle and roll my eyes. “I talked to myself a lot,” I say. “I admit it.” 

“Well, don’t worry,” he says, “I made sure I wouldn’t have to do any traveling for the next few months or so.” He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna do that again for a long time.” 

I rest my head against the tub and look at him with shining eyes. “Because you can’t stand being away from your wife,” I say.

“Exactly,” he says, taking off his hoodie. His t-shirt rides up underneath it and reveals more than half his stomach, which I want to get my hands on. 

“Come in here, baby,” I say, beckoning him forward. “I could use some company.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. 

“Alright, give me a second.” 

I sink below the bubbles, hiding everything except for my head, and track him with my eyes as he strips and comes to the edge of the tub. We don’t fit side-by-side, and if we take a bath together, I’m usually the one on top of him. But not this time. 

“You can crush me,” I say, reading his mind. 

He chuckles. “I’m gonna try not to.” 

One leg at a time, he gets in the water and straddles my hips with his knees. With his hands under my armpits, he sits me up slightly so my breasts rest above the bubbles, drowned in the suds that decorate my chest and collarbones. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing the bubbles off my neck. When his hands find my breasts, he murmurs, “They’re beautiful.” 

As his thumbs run over my nipples, I close my eyes and moan, lost in the pleasure he gives me. I feel him, half-hard, resting against my thigh, and know where I want this night to go. I’m sure I won’t be disappointed. 

He moves one hand from my chest, sneaking lower to tuck it between my thighs. Without warning, he plunges two fingers inside me after parting my folds and my mouth opens in surprise. 

“You like that, princess?” he asks, lips moving against my jaw. 

“Yes,” I say. “Oh, yes, daddy.” 

His thumb grazes my clit slightly, which makes my hips jolt forward and my knees spread as wide as they can in the confined space. My hips start moving like they have a mind of their own, matching his fingers thrust for thrust, desperate to find the edge.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, slowing his pace. 

Hearing those words, I go even weaker. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and find his mouth, crashing my lips to his in a desperate, hot and heady kiss while his fingers continue working. 

“I’m almost…” I mutter, clutching tighter. 

But he pulls his hand up and out of of the water, and stands up quickly after that. I shoot him a confused look, but before I have time to be too puzzled, he lifts me out of the water, too. 

After drying us both off a bit so we’re not dripping, he puts me on the bed gently. He’s not being rough or forceful, which tells me he either has something up his sleeve or he wants to try something he’s not sure if I’ll go for. Probably both.

I rest on my elbows, watching him with my knees pressed together as he crawls onto the bed, too. He pushes my legs down and overlaps my body, kissing his way to my breasts where he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks on it gently, making me moan while he massages the other with purpose. 

“I’ll have to go away again eventually,” he says, not bothering to break from me before speaking. 

I furrow my eyebrows, wondering why he’s bringing this up now. I don’t want to think about him leaving again when he’s only just returned.

“I want something of you to bring with me when I go,” he says, picking his head up to look at me.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “My underwear, or something?” 

He smirks. “I wouldn’t turn that down, but no. That’s not what I had in mind.” 

“Then what?” 

“Let’s make a sex tape,” he says, skimming one hand down the side of my waist. 

I raise my eyebrows, caught completely off-guard. “Wait, what?” 

“No one else would ever see it,” he says. 

“Jackson, I’m not… I can’t make… that’s like making porn,” I say, eyes wide. “I’m not a porn star.” 

“No,” he says. “But you’re my sex kitten. And I wanna see that even when I’m far away and can’t touch you… can’t make you moan, I wanna hear you and see you like you’re right there with me.” 

“Isn’t that what Skype is for?” I say. 

“This is different,” he says. “It’s sexy. It’s like a secret; only we will know about this tape, and it’ll be hotter than you think.” 

“What if I look bad?” I say. “What if the image in my head is totally different than what I actually look like?” 

He snorts. “If anything, you look better than you think,” he says. 

I study his face, knowing he’d never push me if I was really adamant on saying no. But I find myself caving, almost interested in what the end product will be like. 

“Okay,” I say, shaking my head slightly. “Go set up the camera.” 

A manic smile appears on his face while he goes into the closet in the hall to get the tripod and the camera, and while he does that I pull on a green silk robe and tie it at the waist. 

I wait for him on the edge of the bed, telling myself to just forget the camera’s there. I don’t want to look at it and make eye contact, or make weird faces when I’m nervous, because that’ll ruin the whole thing. 

After the camera is set up, Jackson disappears again and comes back wearing boxer briefs and carrying a bottle of honey, a tray of ice, and my vibrator with the circular head on top. 

“Oh, god,” I say. “What are you gonna do to me?”

His eyes flash. “I promised you your biggest orgasm,” he says. “And I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” 

I look at him with welcome surprise, and he reaches to turn the camera on. 

“Lay back,” he says. “Robe off.” 

I can’t help but smile as I hear the change in his voice. Now, he’s dominant and he’ll tell me what to do, and I’ll like it. That’s how we work.

I do as he says. I shed the robe and scoot to lie flat on the bed, my fingertips resting over my ribcage. I hear the lid of the honey crack open, and with closed eyes, feel him squeeze the liquid over my chest, lower to circle around my nipples, and in patterns over my stomach and thighs. 

I crane my neck to look at him where he starts on my legs, his warm, wet tongue makes a wide path over my inner thighs. He moves slow, eyes closing as he licks the honey from my body, and I clench the covers in my fists.

It sticks to his lips and my skin, but he takes his time cleaning every drop. 

“You taste so sweet, kitten,” he groans, one hand on my hip while he sucks hungrily on my breasts, making sure the honey disappears. He bites my nipple gently, which makes me moan and squeeze his lower body between my thighs. My core is throbbing, in need of friction, and I feel the wetness there - practically dripping. 

When he kisses me, his lips are like candy. I’m sticky and breathless, my hands on either sides of his face while we kiss, his erection pressing against me insistently. 

“Put the ice on me, daddy,” I moan, and he licks my neck to make sure all the honey is gone. 

“Hmm?” 

“Please,” I whisper. “Please, daddy.” 

“Good girl,” he says, reaching for it. “Open your legs.” 

I do as he says, spreading my knees so I’m bared before him, and he runs an ice cube over my hip bones, the insides of my thighs, and across my lower belly. My skin tingles with the contact as it leaves a shiny trail of moisture behind, and he watches my face as he moves it around. After it’s halfway melted, Jackson lifts it to his mouth and sucks on it until it’s gone. 

Then, in one quick motion, he attaches his mouth to my core. The coldness from his lips and tongue makes me see stars, and I can’t help but hold his head tight between my thighs. 

“Oh, god,” I moan, feeling his flat tongue work its way inside me. It makes me jolt, the abrupt temperature change, and my hips tremble from the sensation. When his mouth gets closer to normal temperature, he picks out another ice cube and, as his eyes flash, carefully runs it over my outer lips. 

The cold is jarring. My toes curl as he presses sweet kisses following the trail of ice, and it’s all I can do not to crawl out of my own body. 

“That feel good, princess?” he asks. 

“So good, daddy,” I whisper, eyelashes fluttering. 

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?’

I nod as best I can. “Yes, daddy.” 

I still have my eyes closed, so it surprises me when he sinks inside me and pins my wrists above my head with both hands. His hips thrust powerfully, forcing me to throw my head back and moan, wrapping my legs around the backs of his thighs.

I moan, long and drawn-out, as he pumps quick and rough. The sounds I make are broken up by the way he jerks my body, and I relish the way I couldn’t move even if I tried.

“Just like that, daddy,” I say, licking my bottom lip as I open my eyes right into his. 

“Yeah?” he breathes. “How good is it, baby girl?” 

“So good,” I whine. “So, so good.” 

His his keep pumping into me, and his grip on my wrists tightens when he gets close. I groan when he shoots off inside me, his hips following through on the bursts as he empties himself in my body.

He gives me no time to recover before he pulls out and slinks lower, reaching for the vibrator as he rushes to get me to orgasm with his mouth. I grab a handful of his hair in both hands as he sucks on me, and can’t begin to contain myself when he turns the vibrator on and rests it right against my clit. I don’t think I can handle much more, but he finds his way with his free hand and brushes his fingers over the hole that barely gets touched. When he does that, stimulating me in more ways than I can get my head around, I come with a loud scream. It’s not a quick orgasm, either. It’s one that ripples throughout my whole body and comes in stages, makes my body pulse and twitch out of my control, and when I finally come down, I can barely remember who I am as a person, let alone form words.

“I told you I would,” he murmurs, kissing my dewy skin as he makes his way up to my mouth. 

“You… did all that… so…” I pant.

“Shhh, kitten,” he says, finally kissing my lips. “I know.” 

**_17 MONTHS LATER_ **

“Oh no, baby!” I shriek. “We’re gonna melt! It’s rainin’!”

I cover Isabelle’s soft, downy curls to protect them from the pouring rain, and she throws her head back with laughter.

“Is this funny to you?” I tease, holding her tight as we run down the sidewalk towards our house. “Oh, look. The light’s on. Papa’s home!” 

I unlock the door, met with a blanket of silence once it closes behind us. 

“Where is he?” I ask, kicking off my shoes while still holding our baby, 8-month-old Issa, on my hip. “Where’s Papa? What’s he doin’?” 

I get her shoes off, too, and she sticks her thumb in her mouth as I get us both out of our coats. Jackson worked from home today, so I assume he’s still doing just that. But it’s about dinnertime, the hour I usually get home, so he should be done any moment now. 

“Jackson,” I call. “We’re home.” 

“In here,” he calls, and I look at Isabelle with excitement on my face.

“I hear him,” I say, and jiggle her. “I hear him! Should we go see him? Go see what’s up?” 

She claps her pudgy hands and flashes me a three-toothed smile, and we make our way inside the house. As we walk into the kitchen, I see Jackson sitting in the living on his laptop, wearing a devilish smile. 

“Hi, honey,” I say, adjusting the baby. 

He looks up at me for just a moment before his eyes travel back to the screen. “Hey, gorgeous,” he says, then waves at Isabelle. “Hi, beautiful.” 

I take a few steps closer. “What’re you watching that’s got you so smiley?” 

He laughs and his shoulders bounce. “You’re not gonna believe what I found,” he says. 

“What?” 

He nods me forward and turns the screen. Luckily, Isabelle’s head is facing over my shoulder because what I see is my naked body covered with shiny, sticky honey as Jackson slowly licks it off. The lighting is dim, but I can tell that’s our room. Our room almost two years ago, that is.

“Oh, my god,” I say. 

Following my voice, Isabelle turns her attention to the screen, but I spin us around so she faces the other way.

“No, no, no, baby,” I say. “You don’t need to see Mommy like that. In fact, I’m not sure Papa needs to see Mommy like that, either.” 

“Oh, yes he does,” Jackson says, eyes glued on the image. 

I roll my eyes as I head back into the kitchen. Even as I walk further away, though, I hear errant moans and whimpers, whispers and husky voices. 

“Jackson!” I snap playfully. “Turn it off and come help me with dinner.” 

He looks up with an amused glint in his eyes, then shuts the laptop. “Fine…” he says, sauntering over. He kisses Isabelle on the cheek, then me on the lips. “You can’t be too mad. That night was how we made this one right here.” 

Seemingly realizing she’s being talked about, Isabelle reaches out and takes Jackson’s face between her palms, and he lifts her into his arms. 

“Hi, sweet baby,” he says, kissing her forehead. “Your pretty little mama is no fun anymore, ever since you came around. You know that? You stole my crazy wife from me.” 

“Jackson, shut up,” I say, bending to grab a pot from a low cupboard. 

He walks behind me and slaps my ass. “Won’t even let me watch our very own sex tape…” 

I shoot him a look as I stand up straight again. “You need to delete that,” I say.

He winds his free arm around my waist as I fill up a pot with water. “Reenact it with me, and I’ll delete it,” he says, chuckling. 

I roll my eyes again. “You’re insufferable.” 

He kisses my jaw, digging his fingers into my sides. “Is that a yes?” 

I look at him slyly, batting my eyelashes. We haven’t done much of anything adventurous since I got pregnant, or since the baby was born. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the itch to start again. 

“Fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. “Hmm?” 

I pinch his waist between my thumb and first finger, knowing what he wants to hear. Knowing what I’ll give to him. 

So, in the lowest whisper I can muster, so low that the baby couldn’t dream of hearing, I say, “Yes, daddy.” 


	5. Part 5

**JACKSON**

Working from home is nice, but it stops being relaxing when the board demands me to join in on a meeting via Skype.

As the ringtone sounds throughout the office, I turn the volume down until the call is picked up. As the picture comes in clearer, I see the familiar faces of the board at Grey Sloan all looking at me.

“Good afternoon, Avery,” Bailey says, nodding in my direction. 

“Nice of you to join us,” my mother says. “How’s my Issa?” 

The reason I’m home with April and the baby today is because our little girl is sick, and there was nothing of importance I had to be doing at the hospital. 

“Fine,” I say, then clear my throat. She should be sleeping right now, at least that’s what April was trying to accomplish before I came in here to make this call. “Let’s get started.” 

I take notes as they talk about funding distribution. We’ve gone over this time and time again, but can’t seem to come to a consensus. No one can agree on what programs need to be cut, and what ones should stay mostly because of personal bias. 

I blink hard as I listen to them go on and on, advocating for their own personal programs and spouting off reasons why ones that belong to others should go. I nod along when I should, take notes dutifully, but feel like I’m about to slip into a coma. 

Interrupting the rise and fall of the voices on the computer, I hear the door of my office pop open slightly, and the handle moves as it does. Then, April appears in the opening, wearing a short black robe with her hair in loose curls around her shoulders. 

I furrow my eyebrows, studying her. She shoots me a coy expression, waving with her fingers as she slips inside the room and shuts the door behind her. I shake my head minutely, asking her without words what she’s doing, but she just smirks and shrugs.

She wanders around the office without a purpose, running her fingers along the spines of books and picking up plaques to read the words she’s already seen. I can’t take my eyes off her; my attention on the board has been completely diverted by how short April’s robe is and how delicious the swell of her ass looks in it. If she bent over just a little bit…

“Avery, what do you think about that?” 

I clear my throat, eyes back on the screen. Everyone is looking at me expectantly. 

“Um, could you repeat that?” I ask, eyes darting to my wife, who’s now leaning forward on my desk and exposing a generous amount of cleavage. “I’m sorry.” 

“STEM cell research,” Bailey says. “We need to keep it. It’s a fundamental part of running a successful, notable hospital.” 

“Oh,” I say, jotting down the word ‘STEM’ and not much else. “I agree.” 

There are murmurs of assent amongst them, and my eyes rove back to April. She’s standing in the same spot, but now she’s untying her robe slowly - insanely slowly. I widen my eyes and she licks her lips, looking down at what she’s made bare, then trails her fingers over the open skin of her chest, between her breasts. 

I close my eyes for a long moment and take a deep breath. When I open them again, she’s opened the robe to expose a set of skimpy lingerie underneath - the lingerie I bought for her when I traveled to Paris a couple weeks ago and haven’t yet seen her wear. 

It’s black and barely there. The thong is tiny, not covering much between her legs, and attached to it are garters that run down her thighs, connecting with high, thin black nylons. The bra is triangle-shaped and see-through in the middle; her nipples are flushed and hard already. 

“Jesus,” I whisper, under my breath. I chew the inside of my cheek, and she smiles darkly, pupils fat with arousal. 

As I try and listen to what the board is saying, my mother included, April runs her hands over her bare stomach slowly, tipping her head to one side to stretch her neck, never breaking eye contact with me. With a smile, she drags her pointer finger over her lower lip, then sucks it into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks. 

I’m past the point of halfway hard. I can feel myself straining in my pants, and I’m sure she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

She releases her finger with a pop, and my eyes are burning into her. She takes a few steps forward and carefully moves my calendar, paperweights and landline phone to the side so she can crawl atop the desk and rest on her knees, lips pulling in a smirk. 

I set my jaw firmly and narrow my eyes, trying to put across without words that she better stop, not go any further. But she pretends not to understand me, though I know she does. 

“Daddy…” she whispers, spreading her thighs as the voices from the computer run together and mean nothing. She skims her hands over her sides and down her legs to cap over her knees, widening them out even further. Pressing her lips together, she moans so softly that I struggle to hear it, one hand sliding up to grip her breast tight. 

“...genome project. I’ve been waiting for years on that. You’re telling me that you wanna push it even further for your diabetes research? Think of all the people mine could reach.” 

“Think of all the people struggling every single day with diabetes,” someone says. At this point, I can’t recognize who it is. “Don’t you think it’s a little more pertinent?” 

“No, I don’t. I think the votes are skewed.” 

“Bailey’s been… waiting,” I stammer, eyes flitting between the screen and my wife. “The genome project should go through.”

“Thank you, Avery.” 

“Oh, now he decides to weigh in,” someone laments. 

I gasp slightly when April slips her hand inside the front of her panties and starts to move it rhythmically, sensually. She bites her lower lip and smoothly grinds her hips against her hand, the other still squeezing her breast and playing with the nipple through the thin fabric. 

“Goddammit,” I mutter under my breath, and she keeps going. Her fingers move faster, hips more desperate, as she starts panting. Any louder, and the Skype call might pick up the sounds she’s making. 

She bites her knuckle when she comes, lines across her forehead as she fucks herself with her hand, hand moving in manic circles as she orgasms. As she breathes heavily, she pulls her hand from her underwear and draws her fingers to her lips, sucking them into her mouth while her eyes smolder into mine. 

Then, she slinks off the desk and disappears beneath it. I close my eyes, center myself, and inhale sharply when I feel her part my knees roughly and rub her hand between my legs over the bulge that’s made itself known. 

I jolt forward to rest on my elbows, blinking hard and fast as she undoes the button of my jeans and slides the zipper down, too. In attempts to stop her, I press my knees together to trap her shoulders, but all she does is push against them and somehow get my pants and boxers down so my erection springs free under the desk. 

“What makes you think diabetes doesn’t deserve the money?” Webber asks.

“I thought we were over this!” Bailey cuts in. “He already approved mine. So, stop trying to pressure the man and move on.”

“Yeah,” I say, voice squelched. “Let’s move on. Is there anything else?” 

April’s hand tightens around my dick as she starts to stroke up and down. I reach below the desk and overlap her hand with my own to try and push her away, but she doesn’t relent. Instead of backing off, she replaces her hand with her mouth and takes as much of me as she can. 

I scrape my teeth along my upper lip and clench my jaw, taking a handful of her curls and yanking on them. Hard. I feel her tongue swirling around the tip, and I have to stop my eyes from rolling back in my head as she sucks so hard that there are a multitude of wet, skin-on-skin sounds coming from just inches away. 

“We have to talk about this anonymous donor sometime,” Bailey says.

“Sometime…” I choke. “Not - today.” 

“Not today?” Webber says. “What’s wrong with today? You have somewhere you need to be?”

I raise my eyebrows and center my gaze on a fixed spot on the wall, twitching as April reaches to take my hand and plant it back in her hair. Instead, I solidify my grip on the back of her head and roughly pull her closer, making her take as much of it as she can. I feel the tip hit the back of her throat, but she doesn’t gag. She never does anymore. 

She pulls off and holds the shaft tight in one fist, pressing deliberate, sensual kisses to the slick skin as I tighten my grip on the roots of her hair. 

“The baby’s crying,” I say, searching for an excuse.

“Is Kepner suddenly incapable of taking care of her own child?” Bailey snaps. “This has been on the back burner for weeks. I’m starting to think you’re ignoring it on purpose.”

I feel April’s hot breath down the length of my dick, her fingertips feather-soft as she situates them between my thighs to cup my balls. I clear my throat, sit up straighter, and she puts her mouth on me again with her tongue curled around the underside. 

“April’s at the store,” I say. “I gotta go. I’ll talk … I’ll talk soon. I-I just gotta go.” 

I click the mouse hastily and wheel away from the desk, eyes wide on April as she looks up at me with a smirk on her lips and a glint in her eyes. 

“What the fuck…” I say, voice hushed. I pull her up by the shoulders and position her on my lap, her thighs wide as she straddles me in that lingerie set. “I’m gonna have to punish you for this, you know that, right?” 

“Yes, daddy,” she says, arching her back to press herself against me. “I do.” 

“What has gotten into you?” I ask, reaching around to squeeze her ass tight in my hands. “Jesus Christ, kitten.” 

“The baby’s asleep…” she purrs, oscillating her hips as her hand sneaks between us where my erection still stands. “Want me to finish sucking you off?” 

“Take it,” I say, leaning back in the chair. “I-’ 

“Ahem.” 

I lift my head, hearing the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. I look to April, who’s obviously heard it, too. 

“What was that?” she asks, hands on my chest.

“We can still, um, hear you,” Webber’s voice says from the laptop. 

“Fuck,” I curse, scrambling to realize that I turned the video off but not the audio. I slam the lid of the laptop shut and let my head fall back to rest on the chair, groaning with my hands covering my face. 

“They seriously just heard…” April says, sounding mortified. 

“My mother,” I say. 

“Everyone!” April exclaims. “Oh, my god. They’re never going to look at us the same.” She gasps and her eyes go wide. “They heard me call you…”

“I know,” I say. 

“Well,” she says. 

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” I say. “At least they won’t be on our asses for having vanilla sex.” 

“That’s true,” she says, giggling softly as her hand finds its way between us again. “That’s very true.” 

She sinks to her knees and spreads mine, pumping the shaft of my dick to get it back to the state she’d had it in before. After she slips it into her mouth, I knot my fingers in her hair again and come, hot and lasting, with her tongue still wrapped around me. She doesn’t stop swallowing until I’m finished. 

“You like that?” I say, and she lifts her head up. Her eyes are watering from how deep she took it, but she has a dizzy smile on her face. 

“I love it, daddy,” she says, licking her lips.

“It’s time for your punishment,” I say, standing from the chair and zipping myself back into my pants. “Stand up.” 

She does as I say, leaning back against the desk with a coy look in her vulnerable eyes. 

“Bend over,” I say. “Elbows on the wood.” 

Slowly, she walks to the side of the desk and does as I say. She arches her back, lifting her barely-covered ass into the air and exposing it for me, and lets her forehead fall to rest on her wrists.

“I tempted you, daddy,” she whimpers. “I need to be spanked.” 

“Yes, you do, princess,” I say, one hand braced on her back. With a quick snap, the other lands to meet her ass and the muscle bounces back. I can’t stop staring. 

“Oh…” she moans, arching her back at even more of a slope. “More.” 

Without hesitating, I hold the string of her thong in my hands and yank it down her ass, barely getting it over her thighs before I spank her again. A pink handprint appears almost directly after my hand leaves her skin, and she has to work on catching her breath. 

“Mm, daddy, please,” she moans, pushing her hips back. 

“You want me to fuck you?” I say, gripping her hip creases so tight she whines. 

“Please, fuck me,” she breathes, lifting to her elbows and spreading her thighs slightly. “Punish me, daddy.” 

I get my jeans down as far as they need to be, then push my way inside her with no warning. She moans with her mouth closed, lips pressed together as she lifts to brace her weight forward on her palms. 

I show her no mercy. I go fast and hard, shoving her against the desk while she cries and whimpers under me, reaching for something to hold onto while her body shudders. 

“Daddy…” she breathes, reaching back to touch me. 

But I don’t let her. I take her wrist and then the other, holding both in one hand behind her back as I slam into her, over and over, while she loses her breath. 

“You can take it,” I growl, smacking the side of her ass. Her smooth, flexible body keens against mine, her back against my chest, as I repeatedly plunge inside her. 

“Give it to me,” she begs, leaning forward when I release her wrists to rest her hands back on the desk. “Give it to me, please, daddy. I want it, I want it so bad…” 

“I know you do, princess,” I say, but then pull out. 

She makes a confused sound, but before she can protest, I flip her around and lay her on the desk, swiping everything onto the floor. I pull her hips to the edge and enter her again, holding onto her thighs while I fuck the life out of her. 

Her breasts bounce with each pump of my hips, and I bury myself to the hilt each time I powerfully thrust inside of her. She’s so loud, throwing her head back and practically sobbing with ecstasy when I use my thumb to press deliberately on her clit, grappling for my hands when her orgasm starts. 

She plants my grip on her breasts as her body writhes atop the desk, hips lifting and thighs spreading as wide as they can. She’s covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes pinched closed and mouth wide open in a silent, strangled scream. I keep going, though, until my orgasm happens and I let it go with a few disjointed, drawn-out thrusts where I spill everything inside her heat. 

When I pull out, I drop wet kisses over her stomach below her bellybutton, still able to feel her heartbeat through her skin. “You’re amazing,” I mutter, stroking her inner thighs and watching goosebumps rise up in response. 

“I know,” she breathes, smiling. 

Interrupting our come-down period, Isabelle starts to cry. April meets my eyes, bending her neck with her chin to her chest. 

“You get her,” she says, one arm strewn over her forehead. “Because I can’t move.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be forewarned: THIS IS VERY EXPLICIT! But you guys have been asking for a while, so here you go :)

“Baby, she dropped her pacifier,” Jackson says, nodding towards the open door of the SUV. “Can you grab it?” 

“Oh, sure,” I say, squeezing Isabelle’s chubby wrist. “Did you drop your binky, baby boo? Huh?” I bend over the car seat to get it where it fell, and Jackson slaps my ass while I’m in that compromising position. “Jackson!” I scold, before standing up. 

He laughs. “What?” 

“Don’t touch my ass,” I say, finally grabbing hold of the pacifier. 

“That’s new, coming from you,” he says, eyebrows raised. 

“Not today,” I say, widening my eyes. “Not after what happened.” 

Yesterday was the day the board heard the two of us getting heated with each other. Jackson thought he hung up the call, but had only turned off the video. The audio picked up everything that was said, including the nickname I use for him. 

“You’re telling me I can’t touch my wife all day?” he says, and the baby reaches to hold his chin with one hand. He continues to talk with it still there. “That has to be against the law.” 

“Benign touches are fine,” I say. “But no ass grabs. They’ll rip us apart, babe.” 

We walk inside the hospital and drop Isabelle at daycare, where she puts up a fight like usual. She clings to me like it’s life or death, face buried in my neck, and I rub her back to soothe her into going with one of the workers. 

“She’s so attached,” I say, looking over my shoulder back at the daycare as we walk away. I can’t see our daughter anymore, but still hear her crying.

“I know how that feels,” Jackson says, sliding an arm around my waist. 

I tilt my head up and smirk at him, unable to resist his charm. His arm tightens and the pads of his fingers dig in, and he’s about to kiss me before we’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. 

“Avery,” Bailey says, nodding. “Kepner.” 

She was one of the people sitting in on the meeting yesterday, along with Dr. Webber and Jackson’s mother. I can’t help but wonder who else knows, too. None of them are exactly skilled at keeping things to themselves, especially juicy bits of information like this. 

“Dr. Bailey,” Jackson says, returning the greeting. 

Almost as if on cue, Dr. Webber sidles up and opens his mouth to speak to Dr. Bailey, but sees us and immediately closes it. A strange expression washes over his face and he goes pale, then stammers an excuse to exit the situation.

“Right,” Jackson says, as we start to walk again. We don’t get far, though, before we practically run right into his mother. 

“Jackson Avery!” she says, face pinched. “I need to speak with you.” 

“Mom,” he says, already finished with the conversation. “Not now. If this is about-” 

“Of course that’s what it’s about! You better come too, you little vixen,” she says to me. 

My eyes widen. “Dr. Avery,” I say, surprised. 

“Oh no,” she says. “Now.” 

We don’t have much of a choice rather than to follow her into an on-call room and shut the door behind us.

“Mom, I don’t want to hear it,” Jackson says. “Mine and April’s sex life is private, and that’s all there is to it. You have no room to pass judgment, or try and tell us how to live.” 

“What you two do in the bedroom is the furthest from my concerns,” she says, eyeing us both. “Believe me. I had wanted it to stay that way, but you made it pretty impossible with the little show yesterday.”

“Hardly,” Jackson says. “I realized before anything serious happened.”

“Not quick enough,” she says. “Jackson, be an adult. If you’re having sex like an adult, you can have the wherewithal to shut the damn lid of your laptop. You embarrassed me.” 

“We’re  _ married _ !” he shouts, throwing one arm up. “What do you people think we’re doing, staying chaste? Jesus, mom, we have a child.” 

“No one needs to know the details, son!” she says. “Sex is fine and great. You know I’m the biggest proponent of it to walk this earth. But the moment it infringes on our shared professional life, that’s when I have a problem.” 

“I’m sorry, Catherine,” I finally say, chiming in. 

She looks at me, eyes still on fire from where they’d been on Jackson. “Thank you,” she says, then looks back to him. “It’s as simple as that. I’ll be waiting for your apology, mister.” 

Before he can respond, though, Catherine storms past us and blusters out of the small room. After her departure, we’re left standing there in the wake of her frustration, shocked and caught off-guard. 

“You didn’t need to apologize,” he says.

“I did,” I say. “For the principle.”

“She can’t shame us for having sex,” he says. “While she spouts off about it day after day. She’s a hypocrite.” 

“She’s your mother.” 

“My hypocritical mother, then,” he spews, then his pager goes off. “Christ, I gotta go. I’m sorry, kitten. Let me make it up to you later.” 

I nod and stand on tiptoes to kiss him. “I love you,” I say. 

He reaches around and taps my ass before smiling against my lips and replying, “I love you, too.” 

I stay in the silent room for a bit longer, gathering my thoughts and centering myself for the day ahead. I feel more grounded when I come out, but the look on Callie’s face when she sees me changes that feeling almost instantly.

“Hey,” she says, eyebrows wiggling.

“Hi,” I say.

She matches my pace as we stroll through the hall and head towards the surgical board. I keep my body language closed off - I don’t want to entertain the direction I’m sure this conversation is headed. 

“So, that’s your guys’ kink, huh,” she says, voice just low enough. “Sub and dom. Honestly, I can see it. But damn, you let the board actually hear it.”

“I didn’t  _ let _ anything,” I say. “It was an accident.” 

There’s a short pause where I hope she’ll drop it. But of course, she doesn’t. 

“So, you call him ‘daddy?’” she asks. 

I stay quiet, pressing my lips together. My lack of response is plenty of an answer in itself. 

“Don’t be ashamed,” she says. “Own it. I’m sure he loves it.”

I blush red and can’t look at her. Instead, I stare at the board without actually seeing anything that’s written. 

“I just never thought you had it in you,” she says, chuckling. “You surprised me there, Kepner. But honestly, it explains a lot. Especially how you two acted at the gala a couple years ago, good lord.” 

“You remember that?” I ask. It was before the baby, seems like a lifetime ago.

“Arizona and I spent all night trying to figure out what the hell was going on,” she says. “So yeah, I remember. We were pretty jealous of you, too.” 

“Well,” I say, shaking my head. 

“Like I said,” she continues. “Own it.” She bumps me with her hip and offers a smile, and I attempt to give one back. 

All that Callie said wasn’t necessarily bad or detrimental, but it was humiliating all the same. I’m not ashamed of what Jackson and I do - I love it. But I don’t want other people knowing. 

I get a chance to stop by and visit Isabelle during my lunch break, where I sit with her on my lap and shares bites of my sandwich with her. Jackson stops in a few minutes after I arrive and smiles at the both of us, sitting down at my side. 

“Hey, beautifuls,” he says, then leans to kiss Issa’s head before kissing mine, too. “Heard you’re having a bit of a rough day.” 

“How do you know?” I ask, bouncing the baby on my knee. 

“No one can keep their mouths shut about anything around here,” he says. “Torres said you seemed bothered, you know, about everything. So, I wanna make it up to you.” 

“It’s okay, Jackson,” I say. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Well, then you can be more than fine,” he says. “Because I’m taking you on the boat tonight.”

I raise my eyebrows and look over, stunned. Jackson bought a boat on a whim not long ago, and only after I chewed him out from here to high heaven did I realize how nice it was. We haven’t gotten the time to go out on it for a while because of our schedules and the baby, so I’m floored that he’s bringing it up. 

“Really?” I ask, then look at our daughter. “What about her?” 

“Robbins said she’d babysit,” he says, smiling. “I considered asking my mom, then thought better of it.”

“She’d agree if you’d just apologize,” I point out. 

“Which won’t happen,” he says. “Robbins and Torres are perfectly capable people. Issa will have a great time.”

He pulls me close by the shoulders and kisses me firm on the mouth. 

“And so will we.” 

Jackson and I stand outside the hospital after our shifts are over, waiting for Arizona and Callie to come get the baby. Luckily, I always keep a spare diaper bag in the car for emergencies, and it’s come in handy today. 

“Hey, guys,” Arizona says, leading the way out of the automatic doors. “Hey, little peanut!” 

Isabelle looks over my shoulder, then hides her face in my neck. 

“Oh, honey,” I say. “No, no. Let’s say hi to Arizona. Come on, come on!” 

I bounce her in my arms while walking closer to my friend, and Callie and Jackson watch as I try and fail to transfer the baby to Arizona. Isabelle whines and cries, clings to my shirt with fingers much stronger than I’d imagine, and I give up before long. 

“Honey…” I trail off.

“Oh, Issa,” Jackson says, easily plucking her out of my arms. She fights him, adamant on getting back to me, but he kisses her temple and ignores her fussing entirely.

Callie reaches out her arms. “Isabelle,” she says. “Mommy and…” She clears her throat, looks at me, then Jackson. “ _ Papa  _ need to go have some grownup time. And we’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight, I promise. We won’t hurt you!” 

When Jackson hands the baby over, she quiets down once she’s in Callie’s arms. She stares up at her face and blinks, eyes still glistening, thumb in her mouth.

“I think she likes you,” Jackson says with a chuckle. 

“So, you guys are going on the boat?” Arizona says, a bit suggestively.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, and feel his arm snake around my waist. I can’t help but smile slyly when I think about everything that will happen once we’re there. 

“Well, have fun,” she says, with plenty left unsaid. “Get those safe words ready.”

Jackson and I hold hands on the way to the car, stop home quickly to change and grab food and drinks, then head to the marina. The sun has just begun to set and cast a bright, orange light across the water, but the air is still warm and pleasant. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” I say, accepting his hand as he helps me on the deck. 

“It sure is,” he says. “Sit down and relax. I’ll get us going.” 

I pour two glasses of wine and recline on the couch on the top level, watching him get the boat ready. I had no idea he knew how to do any of this, so it comes as a surprise. It doesn’t take long before we’re moving away from the dock and out towards the open water of the Puget Sound.

The muscles in his arms bulge as he steers, a stern expression on his face. I sip my wine and cross my ankles on the table, enjoying the feeling of the breeze on my skin while enjoying the view in front of me even more.

“You’re sexy, captain,” I say, over the sound of the breaking waves. 

The stoic expression falters as he looks at me and softens with a smile. “My first mate’s not so bad looking herself,” he says. 

I keep my eyes on him as he gets us into the open water and drops anchor. We’re far enough away to where we can still see the lights on the shore, but no one else is around. We’re just the right amount of removed from society while still being able to keep an eye on it. 

“Captain,” I say, waving him over. “Stop manning the ship and come pay attention to your wife.”

“Gladly,” he says, and joins me on the couch. He picks up the glass of wine I poured and takes a sip before kissing me, long and slow.

“This is nice,” I say, adjusting to lean back against his chest. With my legs outstretched, I tip my face to look into his and smile. 

He buries his nose in my hair and breathes deeply. “It is,” he says.

“To have a night just us,” I say, dragging my fingernails down his arm. “Without the baby, without work…”

“Mm-hmm,” he says, and tucks my hair so he can nibble the shell of my ear softly. “Just me and you.” 

“Yeah,” I say, and close my eyes as he kisses the side of my neck. 

We take a short nap together there on the couch, just for fifteen minutes or so. When we wake up, I’m rejuvenated and ready for something to happen. 

I turn around and straddle his hips after downing the glass of wine with a toss of my head. He smiles and bites his lip, and I know the night has just begun. 

“I know we came all the way out here for a reason,” I say, slowly undoing the buttons on his chest. “Are you gonna show me, daddy?”

At the use of the word, his pupils dilate instantly. He tightly grips my waist and licks his lips; he looks like he wants to eat me alive. I hope he does. 

“If you behave,” he says. “Take off your clothes.”

I move to stand up from his lap, but he keeps the hold on my waist.

“No, right here.” he says. “Where I can see you.” 

My breath hitches in my throat as a small smile graces my lips. I cross my arms and slowly pull my shirt over my head, taking my time as it inches up my body and over my hair. His eyes don’t divert away from me a single time as I strip bare, winding my arms around my back to unclasp my bra and send it tumbling to the floor. 

When my top half is naked, I arch my spine and watch his eyes center on my chest. My nipples are already pebbled against the breeze, tingling with anticipation. 

“Do you wanna touch me, daddy?” I ask, innocently. 

“I’ll touch you when I’m ready,” he says, my waist in his hands - thumbs at the front of my jeans and fingers spanning over my ass. “Take off your pants.” 

“May I stand up?” I ask, batting my eyelashes. 

“Yes,” he says. “Go slowly.” 

I stand and undo the button carefully, then painstakingly slide them down my legs before stepping out, along with my underwear. Now, I’m fully naked in the open, where absolutely anyone could see. But Jackson is the only one looking. 

He stands now, too. “Get on your hands and knees,” he directs. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

I lower to the couch again and arch my back so my ass is in the air, and he leans over to close a hand around my throat. Not too hard, but definitely not soft either, and electricity rushes to my core when the pads of his fingers dig in. 

“Good girl,” he says, and gathers my hair into a ponytail at the nape of my neck. With one hand still on my throat, he yanks the hair back and makes my neck taut. “Just like that,” he says.

He lets go of my throat but keeps my hair in one hand, using the other to skim over the round of my ass. His fingers slip between the cheeks as he moves up my back, and he presses the bulge of his erection against me and forces me to my elbows. 

“I’m gonna spank you,” he says. “And you’re gonna count each one. Don’t even think about coming before twenty.” 

I bite my lower lip and nod. “Yes, daddy,” I say. 

He rubs a hand over me again, priming the spot. While still pulling my hair, he winds the free arm back and smacks my ass hard, leaving a stinging handprint behind. 

“One,” I say. 

“Good,” he says, reaching under to prop my hips up higher. He spanks me again in the same place, which creates even more buzzing and pulsing between my legs. 

“Two.” 

The sound of his hand hitting my ass reverberates in the air, but gets lost under the sound of the water as he goes at me at a quicker pace. Three, four, five… and after five, he reaches to a nearby drawer and pulls something out that starts to vibrate. 

It doesn’t take me long to realize what it is - it’s a vibrator wand that was at home the last time I checked. I don’t bother asking how or when it got here, because questions aren’t allowed. It isn’t the right time, and my mind is too foggy anyway. 

He presses the vibrator between my legs, against my clit, and I make a sound of surprise. While keeping it there, he spanks me the hardest yet, twice in a row - “Six, seven.” 

He starts to move the vibrator in a rhythmic pattern, pulling away and pushing back while dipping it just inside. He keeps one hand flat on my ass while doing so, watching himself work, and rubs his thumb over my asshole while he goes. 

My eyelashes flutter along with my inner muscles, and he spanks me to bring me back to earth. 

“Eight,” I say.

“What’d I say about coming before twenty,” he growls. 

“I won’t, daddy,” I say. “I promise.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he says, and smacks me again. 

“Nine. Oh, god, that feels good.” 

He pushes the vibrator deeper, rubbing against my g-spot fluidly and thoroughly, not missing a single section. I work my hips against it, trying to find more friction, but he spanks me so I’ll stop. 

“Ten.” 

The numbers get higher, and I try to regulate my breathing. My body is coated in a fine layer of sweat, some dripping from my neck and temples, and Jackson makes sure the twenty-first smack is the roughest yet. He takes the vibrator away and substitutes it with his free hand, flattening it out and rubbing it insanely quickly over my dripping core, so much so that my whole body starts to quake as I let loose. 

The orgasm doesn’t go slow. My chest drops and my ass lifts, and while the shockwaves pulse through every inch of my body, I do something I’ve never done before. I’m not quite sure what happens, but there’s much more liquid than I’m used to and it comes out powerfully, spraying into his mouth when he opens it. He holds my hips and covers me with his tongue, consuming me as I have the most earth-shattering orgasm I’ve had in a while.

“Fuck yes, kitten,” he says, flipping me onto my back. I’m spent, but not sated. I still don’t know what happened, but the couch is wet along with his shirt and my legs. “Fuck. You just squirted. I made you come so hard you squirted.” 

My knees drop to either side as my heartbeat finds its way between my legs, and he doesn’t let me rest. He slaps my outer lips lightly, almost as if to warm them back up, and slips his fingers deep inside to find that same spot again. He gives it attention using long strokes, and I press my lips together while he bends forward and cleans up the extra fluid on my inner thighs. 

I can’t believe I squirted. I never thought I was capable. 

Having barely come down from my first orgasm, the second one isn’t hard to find. With two fingers stroking my g-spot and his mouth on my clit, the sparks come back as the muscles tense up, but he pulls away before anything happens. 

“Ask me before you come,” he says. “I’ll give you permission, if you deserve it.” 

I let out a long, rattling breath. My whole body is throbbing. 

“Can I please come, daddy?” I ask, the feeling swirling now between my thighs. 

“No,” he says, and smacks the side of my thigh. 

I arch my neck as he sucks my clit into his mouth, then reaches for the vibrator. He holds it against me, unmoving, so I move for the both of us. 

“Stay still,” he says, pinning my hips down. “Or I’ll stop.” 

I drop my chin and look and him through my eyelashes, saying, “Yes, daddy.”

He moves the vibrator lower below his thrusting fingers, and presses the tip against my ass. I jolt upwards, making a strangled sound, and drop one foot to the floor to widen myself out. 

“Just how I like you,” he says, devouring me with his mouth wide open. 

“Can I touch you, daddy?” I ask, and he looks up with his lips still attached to me, and nods. I put both hands on his head and grab onto his ears since his hair is too short to hold onto. 

He gets me close three times, and denies me with each round. On the fourth, though, I can barely see straight or form words I want it so bad. I’m quivering, and definitely not above begging. 

“Please,” I whine, forcing my hips up. “Please, please, let me come.” 

He smiles, that lascivious smile I love, and stands me up. He bends me over the couch and strokes me from behind, one hand tucked between my legs with his face buried between my ass cheeks, eating me out. 

“Oh, fuck!” I shout, elbows going weak and collapsing. “Daddy, please, please….  _ Please _ .” 

“Go ahead,” he says, voice muffled, then goes at me harder with both his fingers and his tongue. “Come.” 

My whole body jolts and seizes as I fall apart, and he doesn’t stop. This orgasm courses through me like a tidal wave, beginning in my lower belly and swarthing every inch of skin it can reach. My heart is pounding a mile a minute, and he doesn’t let me have a reprieve. He keeps stroking, keeps licking, until I’m forced to have a third one directly following the second. He has to physically keep me upright as it happens, because it’s the most debilitating one yet. 

When it’s over, I lean forward against the couch and he bites my ass cheeks hard, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth. He grabs at the supple skin and sinks his fingers in, dropping his lips all over my lower back as I attempt to recover. 

“You’re so good, kitten,” he says. “Such a good girl.”

I let my head hang, still trying to return to my body. I don’t know if I remember how to walk, but he doesn’t wait much longer before pulling me up.

“Let’s go to the deck,” he says, and picks me up - maybe reading my mind that my legs have turned to mush and I have no control over them. 

He brings me to the deck, stark naked and sticky, then sets me down near the guardrail. 

“Grab it,” he says. “And hold on.” 

I do as he says. I wrap my fingers around it and lean forward, letting him bend me over to fuck me. He takes my hips in one hand and uses the other to hold me around the throat as he sinks inside me fast, pitching forward to bury every inch. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, moving as he already knows the answer. “Come on, baby. Tell me. Beg for it.” 

“I want you to rip me open,” I say, bending further forward. “Your cock is so big, daddy, and I want every inch of it. I’m yours, I belong to you. No one else.”  

“Fuck yeah, you’re mine,” he says, pace quickening, getting rougher. 

I open my mouth as my eyes roll back, and he moves his hand from my throat to my hair, which he pulls back and yanks. 

“Say it again,” he growls, right in my ear. “Who you belong to.” 

“You,” I whine, arching my back. “I belong to you, daddy.” 

“That’s right,” he says, and spanks me three times in a row, all in the same spot. “You gonna squirt for me again, kitten? Want me to make you feel so good that you have no choice but to shoot off that pretty little pussy all over me…” 

I moan, falling forward while he pounds me with no control. His stamina is beyond impressive - he can last for so long, so long that I lose track of time and forget my name, but with the way he makes me feel, it doesn’t matter what my name is. All I know is that I want another orgasm, and I’m close. 

He can tell, too, by the way my body responds. 

“You’re greedy, aren’t you, kitten?” he says, slapping my sore ass. “You wanna come again, don’t you?” 

“Yes, daddy,” I say. “Please, daddy.” 

He rams into me, running my stomach into the guardrail, and grabs my breasts tight, pinching my nipples before using one of those hands to rub my clit like mad. 

“Squirt on me,” he says. “Come on, baby. You can do it.” 

I let loose a series of animalistic moans that sound nothing like me, and let everything go all over him. There’s not as much as last time, but it’s still more than usual, and he licks it from his fingers while he comes inside me - hot and steady. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking and slamming against mine. 

Our shared fluids run down my inner thighs, and I collapse to the floor once he pulls out. I’m breathless and spent, practically numb while unbelievably sore and satisfied at the same time. 

He sits down and pulls me into his arms, kissing my face all over as our sweat combines. I grapple for his shoulders as I rest against his chest and he situates us comfortably, holding me close and soft, helping me recuperate. This is an important period - the come down - that I wouldn’t trade for anything. 

“I squirted,” I whisper, while he threads his fingers through my damp hair. 

“Twice,” he adds.

I blush, not knowing what to say. I try not to think of all the surfaces on the boat that need cleaning, but instead of the shower we’ll take together to clean each other. I tell myself I’ll go down on him in there; he deserves it. He did everything for me tonight. Just when I think we can’t spice things up any more, something new comes along. I don’t think that will ever change. 

“Hey,” he says, after a period of silence. “You okay? How’s your ass?” 

I snort and nudge him with my shoulder. “Hot,” I say. “Red. Stinging.” 

He runs his hands down my back and grabs it, squeezing generously. Then, he asks, “Want me to kiss it better?” 


	7. Chapter 7

“Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes, Dr. Avery?”

I snort and continue to mark up my patient, Renee’s, face with black marker. Her nose job isn’t until tomorrow, but it does me good to get a feel of how the procedure will look. It’ll also help her know what to expect once the healing process starts. 

“I’ve heard that a few times, yeah,” I say, concentrating heavily on the angle of her nose. “But thank you.” 

“They’re just so amazingly green,” she says, blinking lightly. “Sorry. But you’re so close to me, I can’t help but stare.” 

“Oh, totally,” I say. “I’m irresistible as hell.” 

“You really are,” she says, and I hold back my urge to shoot her a side-eye. 

I continue to draw delicate lines on her skin, and put my mind into the work instead of the conversation. She keeps talking, though nothing she says sinks in. I just hear her in the back of my mind, prattling on about nothing. 

Her voice comes back into focus a bit later, though, when she says something I don’t expect.

“...not sure if I’m being too forward,” she says. “But I know a great Italian place downtown. I remember you once said you liked Italian, and I’d love to take you there.” 

I cap my marker and stare at her for a moment, totally taken aback as a frown overcomes my face. I’m about to open my mouth and turn her down before my pager goes off on my waist. I pick it up and see that it’s from the ER - probably April - and it’s 911.

“I’m sorry,” I say, then clear my throat. “Gotta take this.” 

She nods and says, “Right.”

I get up from the stool I’d been sitting on and exit the room, pushing open the door that had been most-of-the-way closed but not quite. I take a few steps, but someone grabs my arm and yanks me to the side before I can get very far. When I turn my head with surprise, I see that it’s April with both hands wrapped around my forearm and a scowl on her face. 

“Hey,” I say. “I just got a page. I gotta get down to the-” 

“That was me!” she hisses, lips pinched. 

“You… what?” I say, and she slackens her grip on my arm. “Why? What are you doing standing right here?” 

She crosses her arms and looks to the side. I hide my smile - she’s so cute when she’s petulant. I don’t know why yet, but I’m sure I’ll find out. 

“Listening to your little girlfriend flirt with you,” she says, moving her head dramatically as she speaks. “I was passing by, looking for you, actually. I heard your voice, so I stopped. She seriously just asked you out, Jackson.” 

“Okay,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I was about to turn her down before you paged me 911.” 

“You let her say all that other stuff!” she insists. 

“I didn’t hear half of it,” I say. “You think I sit there and listen to what all my patients spew in my ear? No. I’d go crazy.”

She chews the inside of her bottom lip and looks at me, scrutinizing my answer, trying to decide if it’s good enough. 

“I don’t like it,” she says, finally. “You’re married. Does she not see the ring?” 

I hold up my left hand and wiggle my fingers, showing off the band that she knows all too well. “Maybe it’s not shiny enough,” I say. “But yes, I’m very aware that I’m married. Married to  _ you _ , my brilliant, gorgeous, trauma surgeon.”

Her eyes flash and I know I’ve said something right. 

“Come in with me,” I say. “To finish up the consult. Act like you’re there for something important.” 

She doesn’t turn me down. We walk back into the exam room together to find Renee still perched on the edge of the bed, watching the door with expectant eyes. 

“Hi, sorry about that,” I say, then wheel back over on the stool. “Let’s finish up here.” 

“Is everything okay?” Renee asks, eyes on April though she tries to be subtle about it. 

“Fine,” I say. “Just fine.” I uncap the marker and make the finishing touches while saying, “About your offer. I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to turn you down. Tonight, I have plans with my wife.” 

April’s vibe brightens and warms - without even looking, I can sense it from across the room. She keeps her eyes on the clipboard in her hands, but she can’t fight that smile. 

Renee sputters, falling over her words with embarrassment. “Oh, my god,” she says. “I’m so sorry. That was… god, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, then roll away. “You’re all set. Why don’t you take a look?”

…

After the consultation is over with, April clings to her prickliness from before. Not because she’s still mad, but because she’s stubborn. I’ve been married to her long enough to know that. 

“Hey,” I say, slinking an arm around the small of her back. “Let’s pop into this exam room. I have something I wanna talk to you about.”

She looks at me with confusion, eyes narrowed. “What?” she says.

“Just follow me,” I say, then take her hand and lead her inside. 

I close the door behind us and make a point to lock it. She watches me do so with the same puzzled look on her face, while standing in the middle of the room. 

“Go ahead and sit down,” I say, nodding towards the reclining chair with the sterile paper lying atop it. “And you can put your clipboard down.” 

“Jackson, what are you doing?” she asks. 

I clear my throat and straighten the lapels of my lab coat. “As your doctor, I’m giving you orders for an exam,” I say. “Please. Sit.” 

She turns her head to the side, interest piqued. She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and slowly sets the clipboard down on the nearby counter, slowly realizing what I’m doing. I hoped she’d catch on fast. I want to give her the ultimate roleplay - she didn’t like that patient flirting with me, so I’ll let her play the flirty patient. 

“I should…” She takes a deep breath, face flushed pink. “I should probably undress for the exam. Right, doctor?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I say, turning my back to wash my hands in the small, stainless steel sink. 

“Of course,” she says, and I hear the rustle of her clothes being shed before I turn around. When I do, she’s sitting on the table completely naked, ankles crossed and hands tucked between her knees.

I take my time letting my eyes graze her perfect body - its slopes and curves in all the right places, the freckles in intimate spots that only I know, and the way her hair falls over her shoulder as it’s been taken from its ponytail. In her entirety, she’s nothing short of perfect.

“Have you been experiencing any pain?” I ask, stepping closer, popping her personal bubble. There’s a divide of control here in that I’m fully dressed and she’s stark naked. She’s vulnerable whereas I’m not, which is just the way we like it.

She nods, looking up at me through her eyelashes with those doe eyes. She tucks her hair behind her ears and moves her arms away after, exposing her small, pert breasts. 

“Right here,” she says, glancing at them before directing her eyes back up at me. “Will you check them, doctor?”

“By all means,” I say, and greedily take two handfuls of her breasts. I squeeze hard, keeping my eyes on hers the entire time, and her lips part just slightly.

“The pain is deep,” she says. “I think you should… you should squeeze harder.” 

I lick my lips and does as she says, bending my fingers and strengthening them around her delicate skin. She gasps and arches her back, encouraging me further, and I take one hand away to bend forward and capture a nipple in my mouth. 

I suck as hard as I can until the bud is past the point of hard. I make sure the other gets the same attention, and by the time I’m done with them, her breasts are shiny with saliva and soaking wet. I know something else that’s probably soaking wet, too, but I haven’t yet gotten there. 

I grab at her chest again and thumb her nipples roughly, rubbing in circles while she moans slightly. “They react well,” I say, still building them up. “The blood flow is very nice.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes close. 

I bend in half again and close my mouth around the swell of the right one, clamping my teeth down until she whimpers. In response, her hand juts forward and grabs the bulge in my pants, where she holds me tight. 

“Oh, no,” I say, gently guiding her wrist back as I stand to my full height again. “I’m your doctor. You shouldn’t touch me like that. It’d be very inappropriate.”  

She takes a small breath and watches me intently. “Yes, daddy,” she says, then amends her statement. “Doctor. Yes, doctor.” 

I take a step back and keep my eyes on her. She’s sitting with her legs hanging down, toes barely touching the step of the exam table, hands behind her back to support her. While she stays like that, I roll the stool over and sit right in front of her, pulling the stirrups from either side of the table so she can place her feet inside them. 

“A routine pelvic exam is healthy to do every year,” I tell her, gently placing her feet where they’re supposed to go. “Are you comfortable with this?” 

“Yes,” she says, and I glance up at her quickly. She licks her bottom lip and says, “Yes, doctor.” 

She bends her knees once her feet are positioned, and I widen the stirrups out. With her legs on either side of my shoulders, I’m met with the very core of her - pink and swollen, wet too - right in front of my face. 

“It looks very healthy,” I say, then place my hands on her inner thighs. “You should be very proud.” 

“I am,” she whispers, and I smirk when I notice the rapid way her stomach moves in and out as she breathes. 

“I won’t know for sure until I touch it,” I say. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please,” she says, craning her neck to see more. 

“Alright,” I say. “I think I’ll do it without gloves, just this once. What do you think?”

“No gloves,” she breathes.

I chuckle darkly and swiftly slide two fingers inside her with a twist of my wrist. Her mouth falls open as she jumps slightly, and I stay right where I am inside her damp heat. 

“Tighten up,” I direct her. “I need to feel your muscles contract.”

“Kegels?” she asks, eager to please. I love it when she sounds like that. 

I nod, and she does too. Before a moment can pass, her inner muscles tighten around my two fingers and clench them inside, and I become even harder in my pants.

“Give me another one,” I say, when she relaxes again. 

She clamps me yet again, this time stronger. We keep intense eye contact with one another, and I want nothing more than to lean forward and absolutely devour her, but it’s not time for that yet. 

“Hold it,” I say. “Keep holding it.” 

Her muscles stay rigid, strong around my fingers until I pull them out. When I do, they’re glistening with what came from her, and I slip them inside my mouth to lick them clean. 

“It’s always good to know how a patient tastes,” I say, after pulling them out slowly. “Do you want to try?” 

She nods, letting her knees go slack and fall out to either side without any structure. I push my fingers inside her again - as deep as I can - and pull them out to bring them to her lips. She obediently opens her mouth with hooded eyes, and I slip my fingers past her lips to rest on her tongue. She wraps it around my two digits and sucks on them slowly, eyelashes fluttering closed, and I try and keep myself from coming in my pants. 

“What do you taste like?” I ask, swiping my thumb across her lower lip. 

She licks the spot where I’d just been. “Sex,” she says. 

I smile deviously and return to the rolling chair placed between her legs. Her outer lips are slick with arousal and all too tempting - I can’t resist any longer. 

“The best exam method,” I say, flattening my hands on her inner thighs and rubbing her skin with my thumbs. “Is for me to get my mouth on that pussy.” 

She twitches. I know how much my words affect her; they drive her crazy. And seeing what they do to her drives me crazy, too. 

“It’s always good to see how a woman gets to orgasm,” I say, stroking closer to her core. “It’s integral to the exam to see how the clitoris responds to stimulation.” 

She bites her lip and I smile. I lean forward a bit, press a chaste kiss over the smooth, waxed skin between her legs, then sit up again. 

“Lay back,” I instruct her, and she follows through. 

I pat her lips a few times out of habit alone, then spread her wide with my two first fingers. I’m familiar with the inside of her body, looking at it is nothing new, yet it’s exciting each time. I never get tired of having her this vulnerable and open, quite literally, while I’m in complete control. It’s even better because while that exam room door is locked, there are still people just outside going through their everyday routine, totally unaware what we’re doing in here.

I open my mouth wide and cover her, then slip my tongue into her heat. Her muscles relax instantly as she’s been given what she was waiting for, and I close my eyes with the feeling. Her pulse hammers against my tongue and lips as I drag out my motions and give it to her slow. I want to build her up and edge her, get her close and pull her away, so when she does have her orgasm it’ll be that much more powerful. 

I rest my nose against her while my lips and tongue do most of the work, and use that opportunity to look at her face. Her eyes are closed, mouth open - she’s completely blissed out. This is my favorite way to see her, as her hips work subtly against my face and her fingers stretch out and clench as waves of pleasure course through her body. 

After I’ve made her wait for a considerable amount of time with no complaints, I bare her clit and suck on it - confident and slow. Her eyes shoot open and she lets out a sound of surprise as her hips jerk, and I move one hand to her lower belly so I can pull the skin upward. With that, the inside of her is easier to expose.

“Very good,” I say, mouth still against her. “That’s exactly what I like to see.” 

I bring one hand to replace my mouth and rub her clit in tight circles with my thumb, concentrating solely on getting her to climax. She writhes and moans on the table, crinkling the paper, and I grit my teeth together while I go at her harder and harder. Her eyes are pinched tightly closed, her back has lifted from the bed, and she has her hands on her own breasts, fingertips digging in. If I didn’t love the sight so much, I’d keep her in character and take them off, but I can’t make myself. She’s too gorgeous. 

She comes with a clipped, harsh scream - the erratic movements stop and she freezes for a moment, hips still working against my hand while her body quakes and trembles all over. The orgasm washes over her, taking its time with every last inch, and she doesn’t bother to open her eyes. 

“Beautiful,” I say, kissing her core and taking small bits of the sensitive skin between my teeth. “That was perfect.”

“Did I do well, doctor?” she pants, and my erection twitches. 

“You did,” I say, then skim a hand up her belly to land between her flattened breasts. “Now… I want to do something with you I’ve never done with a patient before.” 

She opens her eyes and looks at me, chin to chest, skin wrinkling. She’s adorable when she’s waiting for instructions. 

“I could lose my practice,” I say, standing up and capping my hands over her knees. I extend one of her legs and kiss her shin, her bony ankle, the arch of her foot. I close my teeth around that same spot, then lick from the bottom of her foot, up her Achilles tendon, all the way to the round of her calf. “But it’d be worth it for you.” 

“What are you gonna do to me, doctor?” she asks, sitting up a bit. 

“Stand up,” I say, and she wastes no time in getting to her feet. She slips off the exam table and stands before me, and I take her hips to spin her around. “Get back up there, on your hands and knees,” I say. 

She lifts a knee and crawls forward, the paper making soft sounds as she goes. When she gets as far as I want her, I situate my hands around her middle and hold her in place, thumbs fitting perfectly into the dimples on her lower back. I call them my ‘thumb grips.’ 

“Right there,” I say. 

Her ass looks perfect and round as it’s presented for me, and I can’t resist smacking it. She flinches a little but looks over her shoulder with a smile, curling her hair behind her ear with one hand. 

“Perfect,” I say, then kiss her right between the dimples. 

I hold her ass cheeks in my hands and squeeze them roughly, as hard as I can, and love how pliable her skin is in my grip. I take one hand and slip it between her legs, running from her pussy to her asshole and watch as her head falls forward. 

“One thing,” I say, hurriedly untying my scrubs to get them as far down as they need to go. “No more ‘doctor.’ You know what to do.” 

I watch her back move as she chuckles, and can’t resist a smile as she says, “Yes, daddy.”

“That’s my girl,” I say, then hold my dick in one hand. With the other, I keep a good grip on her waist, encircling almost the whole thing with one hand. “So good.” 

I enter her swiftly and wait for the moan I know will come. I’m not disappointed when she shoves her ass back into me and lets out a high-pitched, desperate sound that I plan on holding onto for the rest of the day. 

“Ooh,” she whimpers. “Fuck yes, daddy.” 

I thrust once and clench my jaw, gripping her tight as I bury myself deep inside her. I want to go slow at first and then speed it up; I like working her to the point of no return. 

“Tell me how good it feels, kitten,” I say, reaching forward to take a fistful of her hair as my hips find a rhythm

“I love it when your cock’s inside me,” she says, and I close my eyes. I love hearing filthy stuff like that come out of her mouth, because there’s no way she’d ever talk like that in any other situation. “So big, daddy. It feels like it’s gonna rip me right open.” 

“Fuck,” I say, and pitch forward to push myself deeper. She whines and tries to grip the paper under her hands, but she can’t find a good hold. “Tell me more.” 

“Mmm…” she moans, arching her back and lifting her ass. “It drove me crazy hearing that woman flirt with you earlier. It made me wanna come in there and just… just…” Her mouth falls open as I slam my hips against hers with one powerful thrust, getting her used to how rough I plan to get. “Just have you fuck me right in front of her.” 

“Yes,” I say, rubbing circles on her back with my thumbs. “God, yes. That would’ve been amazing.”  

I look down and take in the gorgeous sight of her body below me, and concentrate on the way my dick looks sliding in and out of her. I bite my lower lip and dig the pads of my fingers further into her skin, and stare at her asshole just above where I’m entering her. 

I move one hand closer to the divide of her cheeks and she jerks, her body responding before her brain does. But after a second, she realizes what I want to do.

“Touch me, daddy,” she says, lowering herself onto her elbows and lifting her ass higher, giving me the perfect vantage point. 

Without hesitating, I slip my thumb inside her ass and watch her eyes roll back in her head. I pound her harder, forcing my hips against hers while her body jolts forward with each of my thrusts. I love watching her face while I fuck her - she’s so perfect, and seeing her this way is just the icing on the cake. 

I move my thumb in and out with the rhythm of my hips and as she gets closer and closer. When I can tell she’s on the brink, I take my hand away and shove it between her thighs instead, rubbing flat fingers over her clit in fierce, intense circles. Her mouth comes open and her entire body shakes, and she ends up squirting all over my hand, her thighs, and the paper on the table. 

“Oh, shit,” she moans. “Yes, daddy. Oh, god… god, yes, daddy! Fuck me!” 

She’s still dripping while I come inside her, holding her desperately while emptying my load into her heat. I don’t move until I’ve completely finished - I keep her hips tight in my hands to the point where when I pull away, white finger marks are left behind. 

I pull out and watch as my come drips from her, over the ridge of her lips and down the creamy inside of her thigh. Mixed with her own fluids, it makes a very slick space between her legs that I want to bury my face into, but we don’t have enough time for that. 

She turns onto her back, open and uncaring, while trying to catch her breath. She looks at me, one hand on her breast, and smiles like she’s drunk - eyes hazy and half-lidded. 

“You kill me,” I say, shaking my head while looking at her. I run my hands up her inner thighs, thumb through the liquid that’s slowly drying, and trail it up her stomach to smooth out over her breasts.

Her pager beeps from across the room, where her clothes are lying in a heap. But she acts like she doesn’t even hear it, which I’m glad for. I don’t want our come-down to be interrupted by work.

I kiss the concave section of her belly below her ribs, and she drags her fingernails over my shaved head. The feeling sends chills down my spine, which makes me open my mouth on her and leave purposeful, territorial hickeys over her stomach and nipples. 

“Mmm…” She closes her eyes and lets out a content sigh. “I love you so much.” 

I smile against her stomach, nuzzling my nose through the soft peach fuzz. “I love you, too, baby.”

She pets my barely-there hair some more, leaving a quiet moment before speaking. When she finally does, she says, “That’s something I can cross off my sex bucket list now.” 

I lift my head slowly, my eyes meeting hers with interest. I’ve never heard anything about such a list before. 

“And what else is on that list?” I ask, tracing circles around one of her nipples to harden it again. 

She giggles, which makes her breasts bounce. She reaches for my face, cups my jaw, and says, “That’s for me to know… and you to find out.” 


	8. Chapter 8

“Papa! Papa! My bag, get my bag?”

We’ve just pulled up into my family’s gravel driveway, the big farmhouse in sight with the barn just ahead. Issa bounces in her car seat, unable to contain her excitement. We’re here for the annual 4th of July Kepner cookout, and she’s been looking forward to seeing her cousins for weeks. 

“My bag, Papa! So I go inside!” 

“Hold on, stinker,” Jackson says, shifting the car into park. “Gotta stop the car first.” 

“I can get it,” I say, shooting him a soft smile as I open the passenger’s side door. “Hold on, bunny.” 

I pop open the trunk and grab her bag, then help her out of the seat before handing it over. 

“Me and Papa will be just a second. Go knock on the door and surprise Grandma,” I say, patting her on the back as she rushes off.

Jackson gets out of the car and stretches after the long drive from the airport, extending his arms towards me to give me a hug. “Mmm…” he says, smelling my hair. “I’m not ready for this.”

I laugh and nudge him with my shoulders. “Oh, come on,” I say, walking back around to the trunk. “You gotta be used to them by now.” 

He shakes his head and raises his eyebrows. “Your family isn’t something that you just ‘get used to,’ babe.” 

“Yeah, well, I’d know better than anyone,” I say, chuckling. “Here. Help me.” 

He lifts the suitcase that I packed for both of us and grunts with exertion. “Jesus,” he says. “We’re staying one night. Did you pack our entire life?” 

“Options never hurt,” I say, slamming the trunk shut.

“A blown-out back did, though,” he jokes, and heaves it up the porch steps. The front door is wide open because Isabelle made herself right at home apparently, so we step in while looking for signs of life. 

“Mom?” I call out. “Daddy?” 

Jackson clears his throat and I look over with wide eyes. Admittedly, we don’t see my family often, which means that word never really gets used in the context it was meant for. 

My husband’s face is a little flushed, if I’m not mistaken, as he tersely shakes his head. I smile deviously, knowing I have the upper hand in making him a little uncomfortable. But I won’t mix those two worlds. That would be beyond creepy.

“Honey!” Mom says, coming around the corner while wiping her hands on an apron. “And Jackson, of course. We were just talking about you, wondering when you’d get here. Come in, come in.” 

She gives me a big hug, and has one for Jackson, too. She gets a dusting of flour on the front of his clothes, but he brushes it off without a care after she pulls away. 

“Thanks for having us, Karen,” he says. 

“Well, of course!” she says, beckoning us further inside. “My adorable little granddaughter is already outside with her cousins. I got her a pair of barn boots and they look just darling on her.”

I nudge Jackson with my elbow and he sighs subtly. We always joke about Isabelle being a farm girl like me, though he consistently holds onto the argument that she’ll be a city kid instead. I love being proven right. 

“She’s been talking about coming here for so long,” I say, holding my husband’s arm. “She’s so excited.” 

“She’s grown so much,” Mom says, turning around to rinse her hands. “She’s such a little lady now. I can see the both of you in her so strongly.” She turns around and smiles, then takes notice of our suitcase. “Oh, geez. Why don’t you two make yourself at home? April, you can take that up to your old room. I washed the sheets. Get settled, get comfortable, then come back down. The rest of your sisters should be here in a few, then your father will get the grill fired up.” 

We nod and Jackson takes the bag and rolls it towards the stairs. He motions for me to lead the way, and once I do, he smacks me on the ass from behind.

“Hey,” I say, over my shoulder. “Watch it.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “I am.”

I try and quell my smile, but it doesn’t work. When we get to my room, he shuts the door and if I’m not mistaken, I hear the lock click, too. 

“Jackson…” I say, sitting on the bed and leaning back to rest on my elbows. “We don’t have time.” 

“Time, time. Come on. What’s time got to do with anything?”

I roll my eyes lightly. “We can’t,” I say. 

“Who says,” he purrs, setting the suitcase by the wall and coming over without even taking his shoes off. He sits down and pulls me onto his lap, arms around the small of my back with my knees straddling his hips. 

“They’ll  _ know _ ,” I say, raking my nails over his shoulders, rippling the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“Only if you’re loud,” he says, leaning forward to press his nose to the middle of my chest. “You smell so good, baby.” 

I grip him tight, resisting the urge to grind my hips forward. I feel the heat, too; it’s something he can always do to me. But I also can’t stop picturing my mother downstairs standing at the sink, waiting for us to come back down. And I can practically see her face when I appear with mussed hair and wrinkled clothes, looking nothing short of freshly fucked. 

“Mmm…” I moan, as he moves an arm to slip a hand under my skirt. He grips half my thigh and squeezes hard, which makes butterflies appear in my stomach as my core tightens. 

“Your skin is so hot,” he says, stroking it. “Are you horny, kitten?”

My eyelashes flutter. He’s making my mind cloudier and cloudier, and pretty soon I’ll have no resolve left. When he opens his mouth and kisses my sternum slow and sloppy, my whole body tingles while I debate giving him what we both want.

His beard scratches my sensitive skin as he tucks his face between my breasts and kisses the swells. I hold his head in place and he moves the hand between my legs a bit higher to cup my center while stroking me slowly with his thumb. 

My mouth falls open as I rock against his hand, and he smiles against me. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmurs. 

“Yes…” I moan. “Yes, yes…” 

“I thought so,” he says, hitching me closer so he can slip a hand inside the front of my panties and touch me skin-on-skin. He teases my entrance before parting my lips and sliding three fingers in, and I let myself melt and sink onto his hand.

“Mmm…” I moan. “That feels amazing, daddy.” 

He pushes them up with purpose - a reward for what I called him. His thumb grazes my clit and he licks my chest, using his free hand to take my underwear off the rest of the way and clap one wide palm over my ass.

“Fuck my hand,” he orders, and I don’t waste any time. 

I hold his head tight and force his face to my chest, letting my jaw hang open while I undulate my hips against his palm and fingers. If I move in just the right way, I can force his fingers against my clit and sparks appear behind my closed eyelids. I press my lips together and whimper softly, eyebrows tilted up, brain deliciously empty except for thoughts about the way he’s making me feel and how I can keep it going. 

He squeezes my ass hard, roughly urging me forward. He bites my nipple through the fabric of both my dress and bra, and I can’t help but whimper with surprise and pleasure. 

He starts to move his hand along with the rhythm of my hips, helping me to a place we both know I need to be. He rubs my ass slowly, teasing the divide, and continues to kiss my chest while I get closer to what I want. 

“Whose pussy is it?” he asks, tipping his head to look at me. “Tell me.” 

“Yours,” I breathe, still working against his hand. “Yours, daddy.”  

“That’s right,” he says, slapping my ass softer than I know he’d like to. “That pussy is mine. And I want you to come for daddy.” 

I grit my teeth and throw my head back, letting out a series of lascivious-sounding moans while he continues to fuck me with his hand and lengthen my orgasm. My hips quake and I feel my own fluids dripping down my thighs, and when he takes his hand out, he sticks all three fingers inside my mouth without warning. 

“Taste yourself,” he says, our eyes locked. 

I hold onto his wrist and suck on his fingers all the way to the knuckle. I wrap my tongue around them and close my eyes, bobbing up and down in a way that lets him know exactly what I’m mimicking. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, digging his fingers into the round of my ass. “Keep sucking, baby.” 

As I’ve just begun to thrust my hips forward again in search of friction, the lock turns and the door swings open - a voice appearing along with it. “Hey guys! Why was the door - oh, god!” 

Jackson pulls his fingers out of my mouth and I jump off his lap like he’s made of fire. I spin around as the skirt of my dress readjusts over my underwear-free hips and take a step back from my little sister, Alice, who’s standing there looking floored and shocked. 

“Alice!” I say, wiping my chin. My cheeks redden as I feel moisture dripping in beads down my inner thighs, and I pray it doesn’t reach lower than the skirt of my dress. “The door was locked for a reason!” 

“I thought it was an accident!” she says. “It used to lock by itself all the time!” She covers her eyes with her hands. “God… I can’t unsee that, I really can’t unsee that…” 

Jackson sits there, stunned, as he looks between the two of us. I glance over as he takes notice of his bulging erection and reaches for a throw pillow - it’s probably the first time he’s ever been thankful for one nearby. 

“I was coming in here to tell you that Dad’s ready to grill,” she says, eyes still covered. “I  _ didn’t _ come in to see you having an orgasm. But...” 

“Stop, stop, stop talking,” I say, waving my hands in front of my face. “I… we’ll be right down. Please, don’t tell Mom.” 

“Me telling Mom would mean having to repeat what I just saw,” she says. “And that’s not happening.” 

She leaves the room and I shake my head, glaring at my somewhat-smug husband who’s still sitting on the edge of the bed. “This is your fault,” I say, pointing a finger.

He laughs incredulously, mouth open, and grabs it. “What!” he says. “If I remember correctly, you were just as horny. With your little vixen ass.” 

“You coerced me,” I say, stepping into the conjoined bathroom to wipe down my legs. 

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” he asks, standing while trying to adjust himself. “Shit. I might have to take care of this.” He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “Wanna help?” 

I roll my eyes and push past him, on the way to get a new pair of underwear. “No,” I say. “Take a cold shower, or something. I have to go save face.” 

…

I get to the deck and find Issa in the backyard, dirty from head to toe. She’s playing with all of my sisters’ kids in the dusty dirt by the barn, each of them with a stick in hand. I resist the urge to call out and tell her to be careful, because I’ve gotten so used to our padded existence in the city. There, she doesn’t get sticks to play with and rocks to throw like I had here. I decide to let her live a little. 

Alice, Libby and Kimmie are sitting around a glass table, and their husbands are with our dad by the grill, preparing the meat. All of us women are perfectly capable of making burgers and hot dogs, but it gives them some sort of testosterone rush to do it for us. Jackson always insists at home, too. 

Speak of the devil, he comes out of the slider a few minutes after I’ve joined my sisters at the table. We make quick eye contact and he flashes me a wink, and Alice makes a nearly-undetectable sound beside me. My cheeks flush red thinking of a few minutes ago, when she saw me in that unbelievably inappropriate position. My baby sister caught me straddling my husband, sucking on his fingers. I pinch my eyes shut tight and shake the thought from my head. If I think about it any more, my brain will curdle.

“So, how’ve you guys been?” Libby asks, after Jackson goes to join the guys.

I turn to look at my three fellow redheads. “Oh, we’ve been good,” I say. “The summer is going by so fast already. How about you guys?” 

“Well, the kids’ camp is costing us an arm and a leg,” Libby says. Her kids are older - Mason is 7 and Joy is 5, both old enough for camp. “Between the two of them it’s almost $3,000.” 

“Damn,” I say. “Can’t you send them someplace different?” 

She shrugs. “It’s the best around, apparently. And they love it. But like, I miss the days of when you could just tell kids to go outside and play and they’d only come back for meals. Remember, how it was for us?”

I giggle and look between all of them. “I do. And I have the scars to prove it.” 

We all crack up because of that, then Isabelle rushes up to the table with her dirty clothes and messy hair. “Mama!” she pants, out-of-breath. 

“Yes, bunny,” I say, extending my arms only to have her ignore my affection.

“Can I have hot dog? Don’t want burger. Two hot dogs?”

“Sure, honey,” I say. “I’ll tell Grandpa Joe. Thanks for letting me know.” She smiles at me, big and bright, and I give one back. “Go play. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” I tell her. 

I swivel in my chair and clear my throat. “Daddy!” I call out, and realize my mistake in slow motion only after the word has passed my lips. 

My eyes widen and an expletive slips out as both my father and Jackson turn to look with attentive expressions on their faces. I sit there, a deer in the headlights, not knowing what my next move is. I make eye contact with Jackson and shake my head nearly imperceptibly, and he shoots me a look with dark eyes. 

“What’s up, firecracker?” my father asks. 

I grip the back of my chair so tight my knuckles turn white, and clear my throat. “Um,” I stammer. “Issa would like two hot dogs, when you’re ready.” 

“Sounds like a plan, stan,” he says, giving me a thumbs-up. 

I turn back around and curl my hair behind my ears, trying to regain my composure. I feel my sisters’ eyes on me, jeering and suspicious, but if I don’t look up I convince myself they’ll lose interest. But they’re my sisters. So, of course, they don’t relent. 

“April,” Kimmie says, voice as smooth as silk. “Why did Jackson look when you called out ‘daddy?’” 

I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “No idea,” I say. 

“I don’t believe you,” she says, persistent as always. 

I pick my head up and shake some hair out of my eyes. “It’s just a reflex,” I say. “We talk in third-person with a little kid. I call myself ‘mama’ all the time. When Issa’s around, that’s just what I call him.” 

A pretty good lie, if I do say so myself. 

But they don’t buy it. I can tell by the looks on their faces; the way they shake their heads and shoot those smug smirks at me. 

“Still don’t believe you,” Libby chimes in. “April… do you mean to tell me, that you call him…” 

I stand up from the table haphazardly and knock the chair backwards. “I should go see if Mom needs any help in the kitchen,” I say, backing up while looking between the three of them. “See you guys at dinner.” 

…

Jackson and I sit next to each other while we eat, and Issa stays at the kids’ table with her cousins. She keeps waving and smiling at me from over there, feeling so grown up without us breathing over her shoulder and helping her. 

Jackson’s hand hasn’t left my thigh, and his grip is considerably tight. I know why, too. This is the beginning of my punishment, and I’d be lying if I said my core wasn’t buzzing in anticipation.

As I’m animatedly talking with Kimmie’s husband, Liam, across the table, Jackson’s fingers tease their way under the loose skirt of my dress. I blink hard and smile, then dive back into the conversation while trying to ignore what he’s doing.

He traces the hem of my panties with his pinky finger, the scallops around my thigh and the tiny bow on my waist. Then, he uses that same finger to drag slow lines across the middle, over my lips, threatening to make me wet right here in front of my family. 

So, I nudge my thighs together and adjust the way I’m sitting so he doesn’t have easy access, all the while continuing to talk. He moves his hand back to a benign place after pinching the soft skin, and I keep my smirk to myself. He doesn’t like being thwarted. 

After dinner, all the kids pass out while watching a movie and get put to bed in the guest rooms. The adults stay up for a beer or two, but Jackson starts yawning not long into social hour. 

“I’m beat,” he says. “All this country air has me tired out. I think I’ll head up to bed.” 

I look at him with an amused expression, eyebrows raised and lips pinched together in a knowing smile. “Oh, yeah?” I say. 

“Yep,” he says. “You coming, or are you gonna leave me on my lonesome out here in the middle of nowhere?”

He extends a hand and I take it, smoothing my skirt once I stand, then say goodnight to everyone still sitting around.

“Early night,” Alice says, knowingly. 

“Sleep well,” Mom says, totally oblivious. “I’ll be up bright and early to see you guys off.” 

I wave to all of them and follow Jackson inside, walking up the stairs behind him silently until we get to my old room. While he brushes his teeth, I sit on the edge of the tub and wash my feet free of the dirt outside so it doesn’t get in the bed. 

“You know, you have a punishment coming,” he says, tapping his toothbrush against the sink. 

“I know,” I say, looking up with sparkling eyes. “But you’re not doing it here.” 

He gives me a look in the mirror. “Do you suddenly make the rules?” he asks. 

My face flames while I meet his eyes. “I want it to be good,” I say. “And it won’t be if I have to worry about being quiet or… or a random sister walking in on us. Or even worse, Issa.” 

He contemplates what I’ve said and nods slowly, understanding. I turn the faucet off in the tub and lift my feet out, resting them on the rug instead of the other side. While he watches me in the mirror, I strip my dress off to leave myself in my bra and underwear, and then shuffle forward on my knees. 

“I will give you something, though,” I say. “To make it up to you.” 

I plant my hands on his hips and swivel them, looking up at him dutifully while I undo his belt and pull the zipper down. Before I shed his boxers, though, I rub the heel of my palm over the growing bulge between his legs and cross my ankles under my ass, sitting in a position I know he loves to see me in.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” I say, licking my lips while curling my fingers around the waistband of his boxers. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Good girl,” he says, taking a fistful of my hair at the base of my skull. 

I rest one hand on the front of his left thigh and tuck the other between his legs, cupping his balls while his hips pitch forward to fuck my mouth.

He has impressive stamina, he always has, so by the time he’s ready to come my jaw is sore and I’m nearly spent. But I keep going because I want to please him, and he lets go only a few moments later - I make sure not to pull away until he’s completely finished. 

I lick my lips to clean his excess off of them, and he helps by thumbing some of it from my chin into my mouth. I stay on my knees with my head bent back, throat exposed, breathing heavily while he watches me with a slick smile on his face.

“Just look at you,” he says, finger-combing my hair out of my face. “You’re perfect. Fucking perfect.” 

He picks me up from the ground and kisses me hard, claiming my mouth and holding me close and tight. I smile into it knowing I’ve pleased him, and run my hands down his chest and torso. 

“Thank you, daddy,” I whisper, scratching my nails over his facial hair and pressing myself close when he grabs at my ass.

“Just wait,” he says, chuckling low and dark. “‘Til I get you home.”

…

Our travel day seems to last forever after we leave the house in Moline, drop the rental car off, and get on the plane. I fall asleep hard on the way home, and by the time we walk through the doors, Isabelle is long gone and all we have to do is lay her down. She doesn’t even stir. 

I’m in the midst of unpacking and throwing our dirty clothes in the hamper when Jackson comes into the room carrying a box. I look at him with bleary eyes and make a curious face, but all he does is chuckle. 

“You didn’t forget, did you, kitten?” he asks, setting it on the bed. “You never got your punishment.”

No matter my exhaustion, my body still buzzes at the prospect. I have no idea what he’s got up his sleeve; I never do. That’s the best part. 

“I didn’t forget, daddy,” I say, letting the lid of the suitcase fall while looking at him in the low light. “What do you have?”

“You’ll see,” he says. “The first thing in here calls for you to undress, so that’s what I need you to do.” 

I blink slowly and find my way out of my comfortable travel clothes, discarding them to the floor to stand before him completely naked. After, he lays out red lingerie that’s impossibly tiny - it looks more like dental floss than anything that’ll fit on my body. 

“Put it on, kitten,” he says. 

I do as he says. I step into the bottoms - which barely cover the front of me, and just have straps weaving over my ass with a bow on top. The bra is see-through lace that fits me perfectly - he always knows how to buy for me, no matter what he’s getting. 

“You’re delicious,” he says, standing. 

He walks over slowly, exercising his impressive restraint, and trails his eyes all over my body. He doesn’t touch me yet, though, though that’s all I want. My body is practically begging for him to take me or at the very least, stroke me. 

“I just had to see you in this,” he says, still staring. “You know I love you naked, but damn. Just… damn.” 

I smile with hooded eyes. He might be the one giving the commands, but I know I’m the one with all the power. There’s no mistaking it. 

“I’m glad you like it, daddy,” I say. 

He yanks me closer with one fluid tug and I lose my breath for a moment. “I do,” he growls, gripping a handful of my hair. “Because you’re mine. Tell me who you belong to.” 

“You, daddy,” I breathe, letting my head fall back while pressing my barely-covered core against his upper thigh. “I’ve always belonged to you.”

“That’s right,” he says. “That means I’m the  _ only  _ one you call ‘daddy.’ Is that understood, kitten?”

“Yes, daddy,” I obey. “I promise, it won’t happen again.” 

“It better not,” he says, then sits on the edge of the bed. “But it did once already. And for that, you need to be spanked. You were a very, very bad girl.” 

My center is already throbbing. 

“Over my knee,” he says. “Now.”

I take a shaky inhale and carry out what he asked. I curl my body over his legs and melt against him while he rubs my ass with his palm, seemingly debating his next move. 

“These need to come off,” he says. “I only work with skin-on-skin.” 

“Yes, daddy,” I say, standing up only to shimmy them off. Then, I lower down again. 

“Perfect,” he responds, still rubbing and priming the spot. “How many should I give you, kitten?” he asks. “How bad were you?” 

“Really bad,” I say. “I deserve however many you think, daddy.”

“What a good girl,” he says. “Mmm.” 

Then, without warning, he claps that hand over my ass and sends me lurching forward. He never starts easy, and I would hate it if he did. I love being shocked.

“Was that enough?” he asks. 

“N-no,” I say, shaking my head while struggling to keep my head up. “No, daddy.” 

“I don’t think so, either,” he says, then spanks me again. 

This time, even harder. Then another, right in succession in the same spot. When he does that, it makes me whimper and mewl, the skin beautifully stinging after.

“Your little ass is so red already,” he says, rubbing it. 

Then, he bends forward and kisses it gently, the action so different in comparison to the rough smacks from before. When his tongue comes out and laves over the skin, I practically lose it. He knows just how to treat me. 

“Does it hurt, kitten?” he asks. “Have you learned your lesson?” 

I smile to myself, knowing he can’t see my face. “No, daddy,” I say. “I need more.” 

“Hmm…” he hums, rubbing his hand in a circle. “Should I spank my baby girl until she comes? Does that sound good to you?” 

“Y-yes, daddy. Yes.” 

“Good,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a hand to my ass. I groan inwardly and close my eyes as more electricity find its way to my core. “I thought so, too.” 

With every smack, the tension builds. I’m so close, I’m teetering on the edge with the imminent danger of falling over. I’m so weak, I have no resolution left, and all I want is an orgasm. 

“Oh, daddy, please,” I moan. “Can I touch myself, please, daddy?” 

“Yes,” he says, which surprises me. He usually doesn’t let me. “Rub your clit while I spank you, kitten.” 

I tuck one hand between my legs and don’t bother with starting slow. I rub fervent, nearly violent, circles over my clit and it only takes one more smack for me to tumble over the precipice and quiver on his lap, letting go with long, drawn out sighs and whimpers.

“Good girl,” he says, lifting me up to lay me flat on the bed. “Take your bra off.” 

I do as he says while still trying to clear my head, then lie on my stomach again. My ass stings like there’s no tomorrow, so when he rubs two ice cubes over it, I can’t help but groan with how good it feels. And it feels even better when he blows cool air to hit my skin and soothe me, to take me down from what he just did. 

“Who’s your daddy?” he asks, lips moving over the small of my back. The ice is melting on my ass, my core still pulsing. 

“You,” I whisper. 

“That’s right,” he says. “I’m gonna get something else out of the box now.” 

I hear him rustling around, then the sound of the box hitting the floor again. He doesn’t tell me what he has - he never does, but we’re both aware of the safe word if it’s something I don’t like. 

His hands are on my ass cheeks again, massaging and spreading them. I close my eyes and rest my forehead on my forearms, curving my spine so my ass is fully presented to him. He loves it when I do that. 

I gasp when cool lubricant hits my asshole, but I trust him. He uses two fingers to lube up the hole with a version thicker than what I’m used to, so I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to. I hear a slick sound as he lubes up something else, and he braces one hand on my left cheek while pushing something against the tight little hole. 

“Daddy,” I breathe. “Can I ask?” 

“Of course you can, kitten,” he says, pushing it a bit further. “I’m putting anal beads inside you.”

We’d been talking about using these for a while now, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You can tell me to stop at any time, kitten.” 

“I know, daddy,” I say arching my back further as another bead goes in. “Keep going.” 

He chuckles darkly and kisses my back, massaging the cheek his hand rests on while pushing the toy in further. The beads get bigger down the line, and I open my mouth in pleasure and surprise when it’s all the way in. 

“Oh,” I moan, spreading my legs when he flips me over. “Now what?”

“Now,” he says, leaning forward to drop kisses all over my breasts and pebbled nipples. “We fuck.”

I smile drunkenly and wind my arms around his neck, feeling the subtle pressure of the beads in my ass, but nothing more. I know they’re supposed to come out just as I’m about to orgasm, and I’m highly anticipating that moment. I’m ready for my world to come apart. 

“I almost forgot,” he says, reaching for something while still hovering over my body. He comes up with a small pot of something I can’t see, and I don’t realize what it is until he pours it over my chest and torso - it’s hot, melted chocolate and it makes my whole body tingle. 

“Oh,” I moan, nipples hardening even more. 

He pours even more out, the heat searing into my skin, and partnered with his mouth cleaning it up, it sends me to heaven. He moves down my body with the chocolate, drizzling it over my lower belly and upper thighs, just missing the very center. Then, he leans over and picks up more ice, running it over the same spots to shock me with the coolness right after the heat. 

“Mmm, daddy,” I whimper, squirming with sensory overload. My body has no idea what to feel - so many things are happening at once. 

“Tell me you want it,” he says, casting the ice to where he got it from. 

He takes my thighs and drapes them over his hips, though I know he won’t fuck me this way. It’s not often we do missionary because it bores us. But still, he loves seeing me on my back. It’s a dominance thing. 

“I want your big, beautiful cock inside me, daddy,” I say, lifting my hips only to have him shove them back down. When I hit the bed, the beads send a shock through me that makes my eyes shoot open. “I want you to rip me open and fuck me ‘til I can’t walk.” 

His eyes darken as his pupils dilate, and he flips me over to my hands and knees, just as I’d expected. He’ll have better leverage to the beads this way, anyway. I can’t help but wonder how that’s going to feel once we get there, but I don’t have much time to think it over. He pushes swiftly inside me before any thoughts have the chance to pass through, and I grip the comforter tight. 

The chocolate still on my body drips onto the duvet, but I don’t even think about it. With how wild sex tends to get between us, we get a new comforter about once a month. They never last. 

“I love the way you feel wrapped around me, kitten,” he says, gripping a handful of my hair. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ tight.” 

“Just for you, daddy,” I moan. 

“I love being inside you, baby,” he says, powerfully thrusting. “How does it feel?” 

Just as he says that, he tweaks the handle of the beads, and it sends a pulse of energy through me, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. I make a desperate sound and force my hips back, and he lets out a satisfied grunt because of it. 

“Such a good girl,” he says, gripping my hips with both hands now. “You look so beautiful when I’m fucking you.”

I lower to my elbows and tip my ass higher, spreading my knees so he has even better leverage. He rubs both hands up and down my back, scratching his nails against my skin, and I pinch my eyes shut tight with my mouth wide open as he slams against my g-spot. 

Because my eyes are closed, I don’t see him move to massage my clit. He does it slow and steady, and it makes me sob with ecstasy, whole body sweating. I gyrate my hips against his hand and his body, so thirsty for what I know will come soon. 

“Who’s your daddy?” he demands, continuing his powerful thrusts. 

“You are,” I remind him, feeling the coil tighten as I get close. “Oh, daddy, I’m close… I’m getting…” 

“You don’t need to tell me,” he says, then presses a thumb down forcefully on my clit. “I already know.”

I scream at the top of my lungs as he confidently pulls the beads out - swift but slow. With each one that exits, a new shockwave reverberates through my body and I let out the longest, loudest moan I’ve ever heard come from myself. I feel the orgasm not just in my groin but everywhere in my body, and while I’m in the midst of it, Jackson pulls out and comes all over my back - hot, thick, and oozing over my sides when I collapse. 

“Fuck,” I breathe, barely able to speak. I still feel the aftershocks, and I’m not sure I remember my own name. My whole body feels completely new, like I shed my skin and became a new person because of the orgasm he gave me. 

He kisses my shoulders, the back of my head, then moves all the way down to my ass. He takes the supple skin between his teeth and leaves love bites all over, squeezing the cheeks afterwards. 

Then, he pulls me close and wraps his arms around me. 

“I’m all sticky,” I whisper, eyelashes fluttering as I’m half in this world and still half in another. 

“I don’t care,” he says, kissing my face. “You’re my baby. You know that?” 

I smile, letting my eyes close all the way. I’ve never felt so spent and satisfied. I nudge his nose with my own, drape my arms around his neck, and wrap my legs around his waist. I kiss him to punctuate the sentence, stating the obvious. 

“I know.” 


	9. Chapter 9

“Are you wearing them?” I ask April as she comes into the kitchen with fifteen-month-old Issa on her hip. She stops her baby talk, looks me dead in the eyes, and smirks. 

“What do you think?” she asks, plopping the baby on the counter so she can put shoes on her. 

I reach into my front pocket and flick the switch to the lowest setting. I don’t take my eyes off her, and her reaction tells me exactly what I need to know. She jerks forward with one hand braced on the counter, eyes widening slightly.

I take a few steps and swipe a hand across her lower back. “You’re wearing them,” I mutter. 

Last night, we dug out something we haven’t used for quite a while. When I brought my hands around from behind my back and unveiled the vibrating panties, her eyes sparkled while a flush flooded her cheeks. I had her in the palm of my hand, just as I do now. Except now, it’s literal. 

“Remember the rules,” I say. “You do not, under any circumstances, take them off.” 

“And what, go commando in my scrubs?” she retorts.

“On the other hand…” I say, and smack her ass. “Maybe you should.” 

“But you know the rules, too,” she says. “No buzzing me while I’m in surgery. That’s endangering someone’s life.” 

“Because their surgeon is having a knee-quaking orgasm, mm-hmm,” I say, one hand still on her back. “Might be worth it.” 

“Jackson,” she says, adjusting the waist of her jeans and assumedly the material under them, too.

I chuckle. “I plan on following the rules,” I say, conceding. “And you know what’ll happen if you don’t.” 

Her eyes flash. “Of course I do, daddy,” she says, then swiftly picks the baby up from the counter. “Ready to go?”

In the car, I look over at her when I can, eyes trailing over her body while she has a file open on her lap. Sitting there, her legs are crossed tightly and her eyebrows are set low in a concentrated expression. She’s working before we’re even at work, which isn’t unusual. 

While she isn’t paying attention, I slip a hand inside my pocket and wrap my fingers around the small remote. It’s light and dainty, and I like the way it feels in my grip. I turn the notch with a flick of my thumb, and her eyes open wider. 

“Jackson,” she says, lifting her head while pressing her lips together. Her chest expands with a deep breath, and I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. “Our child is in the back seat.” 

“Our child is a baby who’s content staring at herself in the mirror,” I say, glancing back at her. “She’ll never know if you have an orgasm.” 

“I…” she says, and I turn it up higher. 

She presses her back against the seat and lets her mouth fall open, then a few papers float to the floor with a small sound. 

“Should I turn it up more, sweetheart?” I ask, concentrating on the road without looking at her.

She writhes, adjusting the way she’s sitting to change the angle. She arches her back and curves it, twisting in her seat like she’s trying to make her skin come loose. 

“Mmm…” she moans, eyes closing. 

“Just tell me, kitten,” I say, turning the remote this way and that in my palm. “I’ll turn it up all the way. All you have to do is ask.” 

She throws her head back and caps her hands over her knees, still writhing. “Yes,” she says, throwing caution to the wind. “Please, turn it up, daddy.” 

If we’re not careful, I’m going to get hard just as we pull into the parking lot and we’ll have to have a quick escapade after dropping Issa off at daycare.

“Just a… almost,” April whimpers, then we hear a clatter from the back seat before Issa starts to wail. 

“Mama get!” she cries, and I see she’s dropped her rattle on the floor and has no chance of reaching it on her own. “ _ Mama _ !”

April sits up straight and tries to catch her breath, slipping one hand between her legs to cup her center after I turn the panties completely off.

“Oh, baby,” she says, turning around to grab the rattle. “Here you go.”

She turns back around and looks at me from the corner of her eye as we pull into the parking lot. “Well,” I say, sheathing the remote again. 

“Yeah,” she says. 

We both laugh a little bit while I cruise into our usual parking spot, and she adjusts herself subtly before getting out of the car.

“Are you wet?” I murmur under my breath, lips moving by her ear while her fingers wrap around the door handle. 

She pulls away and gives me a coy look, fluttering her eyelashes while opening the door. “What do you think?” she asks. 

I glance between her legs before lifting my eyes back up to hers. “I could find out for myself, if you’d let me,” I say, one hand sneaking closer.

She stops me with a flat palm, though. “We don’t have time,” she says. “And our precious daughter is two feet way. No, sir.” 

“Sir, I like that,” I say, eyebrows wiggling.

Something in her eyes melts, but she resists any further temptation and gets out of the car to open the back. 

“Hi, my baby!” she coos, and unbuckles Issa from her seat. “Who’s ready to go to daycare? Huh? And have a good time while Papa tortures Mama all day long?”

…

When I see April for the first time, I stay hidden. 

She’s leaning against the nurse’s station with a clipboard in hand, talking animatedly to Arizona. Eyebrows moving, eyes wide, gesturing with her hands, the whole shebang. I can’t quite hear what she’s saying, but I don’t need to. All I need is to see her face, and I have the perfect view. 

I fish the remote out of my pocket and switch it on low. Instantly, her whole demeanor changes. She drops the clipboard and it lands on the ground with a loud ‘clang!’ and she has to lean on the counter to keep her balance.

Her shoulders rise as she takes a steadying breath, and Arizona’s face twists in humorous confusion. I see her ask April if she’s okay, and my wife nods and forces the fakest smile I’ve ever seen while exhaling with puffy cheeks. 

After a few seconds, Arizona walks away. April looks around to try and find me, but she’s unsuccessful. So, she walks around the corner and sits in a rolling chair in front of a computer.

She sits up straight and grits her teeth, and I watch as she works her hips very subtly against the chair. I want to see her to an orgasm just as much as she wants one, so I turn up the heat as the expression on her face gets more and more desperate. 

“Hello, Kepner. What do you have scheduled for this afternoon?” 

Shit. It’s Richard. And April was on the brink just seconds ago, working herself to a climax with the panties acting as her partner. And now, she’s gripping the counter like it’s a life raft keeping her to earth, entire body vibrating. 

“Richard,” she chokes, and I turn the volume back down. I keep it on, but not as powerful. She lets out a sigh of relief and tries to clear up her face. “I… I… I’m in the ER,” she says. 

“Good,” he says. “We could use hands down there now. Since you’re out of surgery, would you like to make your way down?” 

“Sure,” she says, then stands. She tugs at the waist of her scrub pants and shoots him a watery smile, and he lingers for a moment too long before walking away. 

Then, I make my presence known. I clear my throat as I come out from behind the wall and we lock eyes. Her face is red and a little sweaty, and by the hunger in her eyes I can tell she wants it. 

“Soon,” I say, visibly putting the remote back where it came from. “Be patient, kitten.” 

All she does is flash her eyes at me before turning away.

…

“You’ll need to keep this wound clean and dry, Mrs. Donaghue. If you don’t - Jesus Christ!” 

I smile to myself listening to April cry out while talking to a patient. I know I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t resist. Without much to do, I followed her down to the ER and watched her for a while until she started working on a case that was pretty benign.

“What was that, dear?” the older woman asks, obviously concerned for my wife. 

“Mm,” April grunts, adjusting the way she’s standing. She leans against the computer station and blinks rapidly, trying to clear her head. The panties are turned all the way up, and her hips have started to move of their own accord. “The wound… needs to be kept clean. And dry. I’ll prescribe you some… god, some…” She clears her throat. “Antibiotics. And it should be fine. Come in… in two weeks.” She squirms and tips her head to one side, bringing a shoulder to her ear. “And I’ll take those stitches out.” 

“Okay,” Mrs. Donaghue says. “Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” April breathes, flashing a weak smile. “Just fine. I’ll go get those discharge papers ready.” 

She turns on her heel and finds me right away. She makes a beeline and I disappear into a supply closet. I don’t have to wait long until she appears, too. 

“Jackson,” she says. “I was talking to a  _ patient _ . An  _ elderly woman _ . And you almost made me…” She widens her eyes. 

“I almost made you come,” I say, showcasing the remote that I’d turned off since. I reach behind her and lock the door, then press her up against it. “Want me to give it to you, baby girl?” 

The fiery look in her eyes melts to lava as her body slackens, a faint buzzing sound coming from below her waist. I step forward and sandwich one leg between both of hers, trapping her between my form and the door.

I turn the panties all the way up and slip the remote into my back pocket. She reaches forward and grips my waist, pulling the fabric of my scrubs into her small fists while letting her head fall back to hit the door. 

“Oh,” she whimpers, biting her lower lip. 

I push my leg closer and she works her core against it, hips grinding against my thigh in a steady, strong rhythm. I stare at her face while she humps me and plant my hands on her breasts, squeezing them tight as she works herself to a well-deserved climax. 

“Oh, daddy, it feels so good,” she says, letting her eyes close completely. “I’m close. I’m so close, I want it so bad…” 

I lean forward and tuck my face into her neck, opening my mouth to drag my tongue over the smooth, fragrant skin. I feel her breath come in shuddering gusts, and when she clutches me tighter and lets out a high-pitched whimper, I know she finally came.

I push her hips back against the door, away from my leg, and slip a hand inside her pants, inside the underwear. I drag my fingers over her slick, soaked lips and smile at her, pinning her in place with my hips. 

She runs her hands over the backs of my biceps and licks her lips, pulse still hammering hard from what I just gave her. 

“What do you say,” I murmur, free hand sliding up to gently grip the front of her neck. 

She tips her chin up to give me a drunken smile. “Thank you, daddy.” 

…

I buzz April sporadically throughout the rest of the day, but get busy around 2pm. When I’m finally out of surgery, I find her in the hallway alone, faced away from me, positioned perfectly. 

I flick the remote on, expecting to see her jolt forward or flinch, but nothing happens. I look at the small device and try the button again, but still it does nothing. I squint to see if I’m missing something, and then I see it. The small gathering of black, lace fabric is balled in her right hand, hidden from view. 

I power-walk down the hall and come up behind her, gripping her ass tight in one hand. Luckily, no one else is around to see. I’d never do it if they were.

“You disobeyed me,” I growl, still holding tight. It’s easy to tell she’s not wearing anything under the scrub pants. 

She loses her breath at first; I surprised her. She looks at me with alarm, but it fades as she realizes who it is. 

“Jackson,” she says. 

I take her hand and unfurl the underwear from her fingers. “You took them off,” I say. 

“I know,” she says. “They got uncomfortable. Honey, they were…” She clears her throat. “They were soaking wet. I felt dirty.” 

I shake my head tersely. “You broke the rule,” I say, then tuck the material inside my own pocket. “And you know what that means.” 

“I’ll be-” She begins, but I cut her off with a firm smack to the ass. “Punished,” she finishes, licking her lips. 

“Exactly right, kitten,” I say. “You’ve been naughty. And daddy will make sure you learn your lesson tonight.” 

…

By the time Issa is asleep, I know April is on the edge of her seat anticipating what I’m going to do to her tonight. She won’t ask, she never does, but it’s clear what’s on her mind. 

“Are you ready for bed?” I ask her, after we’ve cleaned up the kitchen.

She looks over, cheeks flushed. “Yes,” she says. “Are you?” 

“I’ve been ready,” I say, and she smirks. 

Once we’re in our bedroom, she looks at me before making the next move. “Should I undress?” she asks. 

I nod and cross my arms, prepared to watch her. She slips out of her top slowly, knowing how I like it, and stretches her arms high to lift her ribcage. She shimmies out of her tight jeans, leaving just her bra and underwear - not the ones from this morning, though. She changed since coming home. These are purple bikinis, and the bra is a simple pearl pink. 

“Everything off,” I say, jutting my chin up. 

“Yes, daddy,” she says, and is soon standing before me completely naked. 

“On the bed,” I say, keeping my clothes on. “Arms spread. Wait for me.”

She does as I say, crawling to the middle with her arms out to either side. I walk into our bathroom closet and come back with a box that I open at the foot of the bed. She watches my every move, and swallows hard when I hold up a pair of gleaming, silver handcuffs. 

“Oh,” she says, eyes wide. 

I click them open and eye her. She’s spread wide and ready, completely vulnerable. “I’m going to handcuff you,” I say. “And blindfold you. You won’t be able to see what I’m doing.”

“Yes, daddy,” she says, stomach pushing in and out with shallow breaths. 

“You’re such a good girl,” I say, stroking her arm before I make it to her hand. I hold it against the bedpost and handcuff her to it, and she stretches out her fingers to get used to the feeling. “So beautiful while I’m chaining you up. So obedient.” 

She blinks at me, eyes big and doe-like. “Because I love you, daddy,” she says, reaching her other arm out so I can do the same to it as I did the other.

“I know, kitten,” I say, kissing the middle of her palm. “Don’t worry.” 

I straddle her waist and find a tie of mine, then gently cover her eyes with it. She doesn’t say anything, but my stomach jumps with excitement. We’ve never done this before, and I’ve been dying to try. 

Without waiting, I slip a hand between her legs and pat her sex roughly, which makes her twitch. I take my hand away and open my mouth over her stomach, biting the skin as I move higher to her chest. 

She wriggles a bit, so I hold her hips tight between my hands. “Don’t move,” I order, very sternly. 

“Yes, daddy,” she whispers.

“Be a good girl,” I say. “Or I’ll have to take away all the nice things I said about you.”

She nods, biting her lower lip. “I will, daddy,” she says. 

“I know,” I say, opening my mouth over her breast and sucking the nipple between my teeth. I pinch the other one hard between my finger and thumb, and her breathing changes as I do. 

Before I can take her far, though, I pull away and run my fingertips down her legs until I reach her knees. Then, I yank them apart and spread her wide, exposing everything for me to see. 

My dick is hard by now, and all I want to do is fuck her while she’s completely at my mercy. It’s all I can think about - having that control. I get such a rush from it. 

She bends her knees so her feet lie flat on the bed, but I shove them back down. She whimpers softly, which I think is a good thing until she says, “Popcorn, Jackson. Popcorn. Please, take it off.” 

I revert back to reality quickly, spiraling down from the headspace I’d been in as I find the key for the handcuffs. “Hold on,” I say, quickly unlocking them and taking them off her wrists. I work as fast as I can - we don’t mess around when it comes to the safe word. It’s something we always, always respect, though we might not use often. 

I undo the blindfold and cast it to the side, then look at her face. Her eyes are round and a little fearful, which is something I never meant for. Scaring her was not my goal. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, putting my persona away. 

“I’m fine,” she says, though I can tell she’s shaken.

“What was it?” I ask. “What bothered you?”

She shakes her head a bit, rubbing her wrists where the handcuffs had been. I guess we should have worked up to that - I went pretty far pretty fast without considering the fact she might not be ready. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, taking her hands and kissing the spots on her wrists where the metal had been. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she says. “I’m okay.” 

“Are you?” I ask, still kissing her. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Jackson, it’s fine,” she says, then drapes her arms over my shoulders to press her body tight to mine. She’s still naked, and I feel every soft slope and muscled ridge of her body. I love it. “It just scared me a little, that’s all.” 

“I didn’t mean for it to,” I say, kissing her cheek and the corner of her jaw. “Are you okay?” 

She nods, breathing in deeply through her nose. “Yes. I swear.” 

I pull away to hold her by the shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. She gives me a genuine smile that relaxes me a bit, and I give her a gentle kiss on the lips in return. 

“Let me make it up to you,” I say, laying her down and kissing the middle of her chest, right over where her heart still hammers. 

I make my way lower, taking my time around the soft pocket of her belly, but when I get to the place between her thighs, she pushes me gently away by the forehead. I look up with confusion written all over my face, eyebrows knitted together, mouth set in a frown. 

“You don’t… I was gonna eat you out,” I say, still puzzled. 

“I know,” she says, turning onto her side to curl into herself. “I just don’t feel like it anymore tonight.”

Guilt finds its way to my stomach and sits there rotting for a long while. I did this to her, I took her out of the mood.

“It’s not your fault,” she says, seemingly reading my mind. “I just don’t want it to be half-ass.” She looks at me for a long beat. “Can you just hold me?”

“Of course,” I say, scooting back up so we’re face-to-face. I stroke her hair out of her eyes and she presses her cheek against my hand, trying to get closer. “I’m sorry, honey,” I say again. 

“Stop apologizing,” she says. 

“I can’t,” I respond. 

She giggles. “Well, try. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” 

“But you never turn down head,” I say, tracing the slope of her shoulder. 

“I just wanna be close to you,” she says. “We’re never soft with each other.” 

She’s right, we’re not. At least, we haven’t been lately - after Issa was born. While April was pregnant, the only sex we had was vanilla. We never got rough or dirty then. And when Issa was an infant and April’s body was still fragile, we abstained entirely. So, when we got back on the horse so to speak, we got back on full-throttle. We haven’t stopped to take a breather since then. 

“We should be more often,” I say. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” 

“Yeah?” she says. 

I nod and kiss her slow. “Of course.” 

…

Two weeks later, April does something she never ceases to do - she surprises me.

“Jackson,” she calls from the bedroom, as I’m cleaning up baby toys and book in the living room. “Come here.” 

“Where?” I call back. 

“Bedroom,” she replies, and I finish my job and make my way there. 

When I arrive, she’s naked and sprawled out on the bed just how I like her. We’ve spent the last fourteen days going easy with each other, keeping it pretty vanilla. But the way she looks right now is anything but - in black, skimpy lingerie with her hair in tousled, shiny curls, arms out to either side with a tie draped over each bedpost - meant to be cinched around her wrists. Softer than handcuffs, but the same idea.

“Hi, daddy,” she says, eyes glinting. “Can we try again?” 


	10. Chapter 10

**JACKSON**

God, she’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

She’s not in my vicinity, but I know how she smells and what she tastes like. I’m familiar with what it’s like to kiss her, to grab her ass and pull her tight against my body, and the mind-blowing heat that takes over when I sink inside her. 

The men surrounding her have no idea about those things, but I do. As I watch her from my place at the bar as I stand there nursing an inch of brandy, I do.

She’s wearing a low-backed, skintight black dress that ends at mid-thigh, and it clings in all the right places. With spaghetti straps and her hair in a loose bun, it puts her pretty neck and shoulders on display, along with the handful of freckles sprinkled on her skin. The dress doesn’t leave much breathing room or the opportunity for a bra, so she’s not wearing one.

Her arms and legs look inexplicably long as she sits on a raised chair, ankles crossed while flashing those red bottom shoes I got her last Christmas. As she takes a sip of her drink, she glances at me over the lip of the glass and flashes her eyes. My gaze doesn’t waver; I return the stare with equal intensity and tip my chin a bit.

She can’t keep the smirk off her lips, so she drinks to hide it. I don’t try and pretend like I’m not watching her; that’s the whole point of this charade. We agreed to go out tonight and do a roleplay of sorts - acting like we don’t know each other. She was to dress in one of the sexiest things she owned and let other men flirt with her while I watched. 

The night has barely begun and I’ve already had a hard time containing my jealousy. No one has approached her yet, but that’s about to change. I’ve noticed a certain gentleman’s eyes on her for a few minutes now as he waits for the right time to strike. When he begins his calculated beeline towards her, I can’t help but stiffen, grip tightening on the glass in my hand. 

This was my idea, but I don’t know how much I can stomach. I’m territorial of April - of course I am, she’s my wife. I’m the jealous type, that’s not a secret, and I can tell she’s experiencing a sick satisfaction because of the envy showing on my face.

“Hey there,” I hear, and it takes a moment before I realize the feminine voice on the adjacent stool is talking to me. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

It takes all my strength to rip my eyes away from my wife as she leans an elbow on the table and talks to the gentleman with fluttering eyelashes. While appreciating the curve of her neck that leads to the dip of her collarbones, it would be uncharacteristic of me not to let my eyes drift lower. Her cleavage has never looked better.

I want to rip that dress off of her and bury my face in her chest. I want to leave marks on her and let her know she’s mine - public marks, so that any man in a ten-foot radius would know she’s taken. But for now, I stay planted on the barstool infuriatingly far away from her with another woman trying to flirt with me, no less. 

“I’m fine with what I’ve got, but thank you,” I say, my voice clipped as I turn to make eye contact. She’s blonde, wearing a small amount of makeup and a gray wrap dress. April has one similar. All I can think about is the way my wife looks in it. 

“Oh, sure,” she responds, making no move to leave. “That was forward, anyway. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” I say, distracted still. 

April is talking to the man now, having a back-and-forth conversation that consists of a lot of laughing and heavy eye contact. I’m covered in pins and needles, wondering why I came up with this idea in the first place. I want to ravage her. 

“Seems like you’ve got your eyes on someone else tonight,” the woman says, calling my attention back. 

Slowly, I stop watching April and center my gaze on the blonde again. “You’re right,” I say. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” she says, laughing softly. “She’s gorgeous. If you weren’t gonna snatch her up, I was.” 

That gets a smile out of me, a conspiratorial smirk that pulls up one corner of my lips. I can’t break the rules of the game and tell her that April is my wife, although I badly want to. I feel such a sense of pride over how desirable she is, how she attracts everyone in the room by her presence alone. She’s such a commanding force, and I’m the one who gets to go home with her at the end of the night. If a better feeling exists in the world, I don’t know it.

“Sorry,” I say, resting an elbow on the bar. “But I won’t share.” 

“Understandable,” she says, still grinning. “I wish you the best of luck.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, then she turns to leave.

I let my eyes drift back to April, who’s still having a conversation with the same man. His back is to me but I can see her face over his shoulder, eyes wide and doelike, lashes a mile long. She licks her lips when he leans to whisper something in her ear, then laughs because of it. 

My skin is on fire as I firmly grip one knee, digging the pads of my fingers in. I can’t last much longer without getting my hands on her. 

The man’s face is close to hers, his lips moving right against her ear. She tilts her eyes up towards the ceiling then slowly lowers them, finding mine with a magnetized intensity. They flash as she takes the black straw between her teeth, smiling devilishly while nodding at something he’s said. 

I grit my teeth and she notices, because she nods again - this time slower. Her eyes never break from mine, and a jolt of fury runs through me when she reaches to gently grip his bicep while he speaks. And if I thought my jealousy was already at its peak, I practically explode when he holds her wrist and drags his thumb over the point of the bone.

The stool makes a sound as I stand up and push it back a bit. Suddenly, I’m on my feet but I don’t move anywhere because I can tell how thoroughly amused she is. As I continue to watch her, the man tries to lead her away, but she subtly shakes her head and gives him some sort of excuse. I watch his face change from aroused and hopeful to crestfallen within the span of a second and puff out my chest because of it.

My fist is still bunched when she walks over - more like saunters, actually. Her hips sway in that perfect dress, and as she tosses her hair behind her shoulders I catch a whiff of her perfume. It’s enough to get me hard, as if my blood weren’t pumping powerfully enough already.

“Hi, daddy,” she purrs, looking up with a slick smile on her face. She tucks a bit of hair behind her ear and blinks slowly, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth until it pops back out, shiny with saliva. 

“Hey,” I say, swallowing thickly. 

“Is something wrong?” she asks, her voice high and unassuming. 

“Nothing,” I say. 

“I made a friend,” she says, looking over her shoulder to the man who’s now watching her - just as I’d been doing a few moments before. 

“I see that.” 

“Should I invite him to join us?” she asks, giggling a bit. 

“No,” I say, and she lifts a hand to run it down my chest, fingers bumping over the buttons. I take her wrist and hold tightly enough for her lips to part in a silent gasp, eyes lifting to mine in a wordless display of submission. 

“What are you gonna do to me, daddy?” she whispers, inching closer so our torsos press together. Without checking to see if anyone’s looking, she uses her other hand and slides it between our bodies to graze over my erection. “Are you gonna punish me?” 

“Yes,” I say, roughly moving her hand away from my groin. 

“Here?” she says, almost hopeful. “You could take me to the bathroom and show me what a bad girl I’ve been.” 

“No,” I say, sternly. “I’m taking you home.” 

She visibly trembles from my words, eyes gone dark. As I lead the way out of the bar with one hand solid on the small of her back, she says, “Yes, daddy.” 

**APRIL**

My body tingles with anticipation once we get home. The baby is with Jackson’s mother tonight so the house is quiet and dark, and a jolt of energy bursts through me as he removes my coat from my bare shoulders. Even a simple, benign touch of his is enough to get me started.

Letting other men flirt with me was fun and it was highly entertaining to see him so worked up over his own idea. But what made the experience even better is knowing his frustration was rising with each passing moment, each new interaction, and how that would build my punishment for later. 

Later, which is now. 

“Bedroom,” he says, gesturing down the hallway.

I throw a glance over my shoulder as I head that way, knowing he’s following. He doesn’t bother turning any lamps on once we get inside - there’s just enough light coming in from the window, and that’s all we need. 

He sits down on the bed with his knees spread, and I stay standing. This isn’t an unusual position, so I fall into my role and start to undress with his eyes on me. But before I can get far, he stops me by raising one hand and saying, “No.” 

“No?” I say, pausing with my arms behind me, hands on the zipper. 

“No,” he says, resting with his arms behind him. “I tell you what to take off and when.” 

“Oh,” I say, lowering my arms as my skin tingles. “Okay.” 

My mouth twitches as I keep my smile at bay, knowing that I’m irritating him. He leans forward to grab my waist tightly and yanks my body closer, fingers digging in. “What do you say?” he growls, looking up at me with dark eyes. 

I run my teeth over my lower lip, thoroughly enjoying this. I graze my hands over his shoulders, fabric rippling beneath my touch and say, “Yes, daddy.” 

He gently returns my wrists to my sides, satisfied as he says, “Good girl.” 

“What should I take off first?” I ask, standing before him, waiting for instruction. 

“Your shoes,” he says, glancing at the stilettos I had worn tonight. 

I’m glad he started there, because my feet have been aching for a while. I’ve been dying to get out of these heels; they’re far from my favorite thing to wear. But I know how much they turn him on; it’s been more than once that I’ve worn these shoes and  _ only  _ these shoes while having sex with him. 

I take them off slowly, never breaking eye contact. I stand significantly shorter after they’re off, now holding both shoes with two fingers and dangling them in the air with a soft giggle. 

“Put them down,” he says, much more serious. I obey, setting them to the side while feeling his eyes trail over my body. “The necklace,” he says. “Off.” 

With a small smirk, I twine my hands behind my neck to try and work the tiny clasp, but it’s stuck. “I can’t get it,” I say, taking a few tentative steps closer to stand between his knees. “Will you get it for me, daddy?”

He grips my waist again and spins me slowly, and I feel his breath on my open back. He undoes the clasp quickly and expertly, trailing his pointer finger over the knobs of my spine after. His hands loosen on my middle, thumbs massaging the small of my back, as he presses his nose against my skin to take a deep breath. 

“Goddamn, you’re delicious,” he says, but all I do is step away and turn back around. I’m not naked yet. His eyes are hungry now, drinking me in with wide pupils. “Hair down,” he says. 

I reach to undo the clips I’d had it in and the waves fall around my shoulders loosely, just in the way he likes. I shake them a bit, knowing how voluminous they must be from being wound in a bun, and run my fingers through what he can’t reach. 

“Now, the dress,” he says. “And go slow. I want to see every inch of you.” 

“Yes, daddy,” I say, replacing my hands where they had started at the top of the zipper. 

I tug it down so slowly that every new tooth coming open can be heard, and once the back is undone, I slip my arms out from the spaghetti straps one by one. I hold the fabric at my chest and catch his eyes, waiting for permission, and he gives me a curt nod before I let the fabric fall in a graceful pile to my feet. 

I don’t have on a bra, only underwear. His body tenses as he stares at me, standing with nipples pebbled from the cool air and peach fuzz standing on end for the same reason. 

“Panties,” he says, fingers clenching the comforter. “Slowly.” 

I run my hands down my stomach seductively until they reach the measly fabric that sits low on my hips, and I snap the band once I get there. I slip my hands beneath it, not pulling down yet, just touching my skin in order to get him more worked up. I can see exactly what it’s doing to him; all the evidence I need is between his legs and there’s no ignoring it.

“Take them off, April,” he orders, voice gravelly. 

I can’t help but the shudder that runs through me, and I don’t waste time before obeying. I slip the underwear down my legs, bending in half to get them all the way to the floor, then stand to my full height completely naked. 

He adjusts and spreads his legs wider, looking at me expectantly as I wait for further directions. “Get on your knees,” he says, jerking his chin. “And suck me off.” 

I press my lips together and try not to smile like the Cheshire cat. I’d been waiting for this. “Of course, daddy,” I say, getting situated between his knees while folding my ankles under my ass. 

I reach forward and undo his belt with expert hands, making quick work of the button and zipper, too. Once his fly is open, I use the heel of my palm to rub him through his pants and because of that, he grits his teeth and hisses through them, hips bucking of their own accord. 

“Don’t tease me, kitten,” he says, grabbing a fistful of hair at the base of my skull. “I’ve had enough for one night. Do as Daddy tells you.” 

I blink up at him, eyes wide and round. Then, I lean forward and press my lips against the bulge in his pants, speaking as he twitches under my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I promise, I’ll be good.” 

“Yes, you will,” he says, clenching my hair tighter. “Now, pull it out and put your pretty mouth on it.” 

I smile to myself as he lifts his hips, then I do as he told me. I pull his boxers down so his penis springs free, rock hard with a glistening tip as it waits for me to tend to it. While making eye contact, I spit on my palm and grip his shaft how he likes, pumping with one hand still on his thigh. 

“Mm,” he grunts, eyelids fluttering. 

Without warning, I lean in and wrap my lips around the head to collect the fluid with my tongue, elongating my neck to take it as far as it will go. His hips buck as he starts to fuck my mouth, and I slip my working hand between his thighs to massage his balls and roll them between my fingers. 

“Fuck,” he moans, still thrusting. I blink hard as my eyes water and try to keep my composure, but as his hips become more powerful and the intensity rises, it becomes too much to take. To avoid gagging and taking us both out of the moment, I release him with a salacious ‘pop’ and let his pre-come and my saliva create a string between my lips and his dick, then lick him clean. 

“You taste so good, daddy,” I murmur, my mouth moving against the biggest vein. I push his legs out so his legs spread further, then tuck my head between them to bite the soft insides of his thighs. He makes an animalistic sound and lurches forward, yanking on my hair as I give him low hickeys. 

While keeping my head in place, I start to pump him again. I don’t go slow, either; this time, I go quickly and know that I’m building him up to a fever pitch. When my thumb glides over the head and he swears, I know it’ll only be a matter of seconds. 

So, I pick my head up and wrap my lips around him again, head bobbing as I make eye contact. He places a hand on the top of my hair and cranes my neck back and fists my hair when he comes. I keep sucking as he shoots his load off into my mouth, swallowing thickly as it slides down my throat. 

I kiss him all over as he starts to soften. I put my lips on the head of his dick, the shaft, and ghost them across the marks on his thighs. He doesn’t let me linger, though. Instead, he lifts me by the armpits and directs me towards the bed, saying, “On your hands and knees.” 

I do as I’m told, crawling forward with my ass in the air. He walks around to the side, eyes on me, and I glance over for validation. 

“Good girl,” he says, reaching to trail a finger down the curve of my spine. “I just need to look at you. You’re so fucking perfect.” I smile breathlessly when he pushes on my shoulder blades and says, “Lower. Drop to your elbows.”

Obeying, I let my neck go slack and my head fall forward so I can’t see what he’s doing. I can feel his presence, though, and before long he touches me. He runs his hands up and down my sides, buries them in my hair, and grabs two fistfuls of my ass while standing behind me. He smacks it lightly from the side, causing me to smile to myself. He can’t stay away from it. 

“This ass,” he says, bending to kiss the right cheek. “Fuck.”

“Do you like it, daddy?” I ask, turning my head to the side. 

“I fucking love it,” he says, and before I can register what’s happening he plants both hands on my hips and sinks inside me, making my eyes roll back from the sudden contact. 

“Shit,” I whimper, curving against him.

He rocks his hips, pushing further. “You’re wet as hell, kitten,” he says. “Is someone horny?” 

“Yes,” I moan, eyelashes fluttering as he moves impeccably slowly. “Oh, god… daddy, please.” 

He leans forward, pressing some of his body weight down before pushing me further against the mattress. He climbs on behind me, balancing on his knees, and makes sure I’m pinned down and completely at his mercy. Just the way we like it.

“Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you,” he says. 

I lift my hips higher, spread myself wider, and moan with my lips pressed shut. “Please, daddy,”I whine. “I want it so bad.” 

With one hand solid in the middle of my back, he picks up speed and starts thrusting with more power. His skin slaps against mine each time he buries himself in me, and my mouth falls open with the feeling. “You feel so fucking good I can taste it,” he says, fingernails digging into my back. “Do you know how good you feel, kitten?” 

“Mmm…” I whimper. “No, daddy. Tell me.” 

“Your pretty little pussy is so fuckin’ tight around my cock,” he says. “Squeezing the fuckin’ life out of me.” He uses his free hand to squeeze my ass, making me gasp. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, baby,” he grunts. 

“You,” I breathe, barely able to get a word out because of how hard he’s fucking me. “Belongs to… uhhh… my god!” 

He chuckles haughtily. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

“Daddy, oh… my god!” I moan, my voice going higher and higher. “Fuck!” 

“Who do you belong to, kitten?” he asks, without slowing down. He takes a handful of my hair and yanks it back, pulling my head with it. The pain shoots down my spine and centers between my thighs, focusing on my throbbing clit. I could explode at any minute and he knows it. 

“You, daddy,” I sigh, moaning as he winds an arm around my stomach to lift my ass up higher. “I belong to you.” 

“Yes, you fuckin’ do,” he says, still slamming into me so hard I see stars. “I couldn’t stand those men at the bar thinking they could have a piece of you. I fucking hated it. I wanted to come over there and brand you, bend you over the table just so they’d know you’re mine.”

“They know now,” I whimper, satisfied that I got the reaction out of him that I’d been trying for. 

“Yes, they do,” he says, making a guttural sound as he pulls out without warning. Then, I feel heat shoot onto my back, dripping into the crease of my spine and over the slopes of my waist. “Shit,” he breathes. 

He likes coming on my back, and I don’t mind. It’s an effective form of birth control, but it means that the comforter has to go in the wash. No matter how foggy my head is, that thought always comes to mind. 

“Just look at you, kitten,” he says, holding my ass again. “Flip over.” 

Still conscious of the semen on my back, I move slowly. My skin sticks once I turn over but I try to push it out of my thoughts. We can deal with it later, definitely not right now.

“Spread your legs,” he says, kneeling between them. 

A spark of a smile lights up my eyes, then my mouth. “Have I been a good girl, daddy?” I ask, reaching low to run my hands over my thighs. I’m aware that he’s conscious that I didn’t come just now and he did. That’s two for him and none for me, which is unusual. 

“So good,” he says, but moves my hands away and pins them to the mattress by the wrists.

“Good enough to get my pussy eaten?” I ask, blinking slowly. 

His eyes flash as he bends to kiss the inside of one knee, then gets closer and closer to my center. He stops on the smooth round of my thigh before lifting up and looking at my face, shaking his head a bit. 

“After a few spankings, I’m sure you’ll have learned your lesson,” he says. “Are you up for it?” 

I smirk softly, pressing my knees together as I sit up and give him a wordless answer. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into his lap as I rest on my elbows, ass in the air. He lifts one hand to draw a line down my spine with one finger, through the residue of the sticky mess, then slips that finger into my mouth. 

I suck on it dutifully, curving my spine further. And just when I thought I knew what he was going to do, he leans in and kisses my back, running his tongue through everything that came from him. 

“Holy shit,” I whimper, growing weak. 

He cleans me up without missing a single spot. As his tongue moves over the slopes and ridges of my back, one hand stays on my ass and the other woven through my hair. I can barely keep myself up and he’s not even stimulating me yet - at least, not in the way I expected. 

He presses a dirty, wet kiss over my back dimples once he’s finished, slipping his right hand lower to slide over my pussy lips. They’re drenched, and I hear the satisfied sound he makes when he realizes it. 

“You liked that, didn’t you, kitten?” he murmurs, voice nearing my ear.

“Yes, daddy,” I whisper, arching my back as he teases my slit. He runs a finger along my entrance without going in, just teasing the lips apart by a bit and nudging my clit before drawing lazy circles over it. Because he’s brought me close once already tonight, I’m dying for an orgasm and that small movement shoulders me near the edge. But soon, that hand leaves my body and comes back with a sharp smack. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I lurch forward, ass stinging as he rubs the spot he just hit. 

“God, I love this ass,” he says. “It’s turning so red for me already.”  

“Spank me again, daddy,” I beg, rocking on my knees. I need more of that electricity, and I know he’ll give it to me. 

“Of course,” he says, and follows through. 

The searing imprint of his palm makes me cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, physically quivering afterwards. He doesn’t give me much time for a reprieve, either; instead, he smacks me three more times in succession, all in the same place. 

“Shit,” I whine, trembling. 

He spanks me once more and before I can even register how it feels, he flattens his hand between my thighs and rubs me in maddeningly fast circles. I clench my hands into fists and pinch my eyes shut, spreading my knees as my orgasm begins without any buildup - it just washes over me in one fell swoop and I barely realize it when I squirt all over his hand and lap. 

“Fuck yes, baby girl,” he grunts, then pushes me onto my back. “Such a good girl.” 

He doesn’t let me breathe before burying his face between my thighs and pulling on my skin to bare the pink inside. He absolutely ravages me - using his nose, lips, tongue and teeth - and before long I’m having a second orgasm only moments after the first, and this one leaves me incapable of clear thoughts. I can’t even speak or remember my name, my heartbeat floods my whole body and I can’t catch my breath for the life of me. 

He kisses his way up my body and swipes a hand between my legs over the place that’s still powerfully throbbing, hinting that he’s ready to give me a third. With a weak smile on my lips, I close my thighs and press on his wrist, gently pushing it away while I try and remember what planet we’re on. 

“No?” he says, lips moving against the crook of my neck as I curl against him - fully naked, while he’s still wearing the dress shirt that’s now stained with my bodily fluids. 

“Not yet,” I sigh, wrapping my arms around his sturdy shoulders. “I need time.” 

He smiles against me, nipping at my pulse point. “Alright,” he growls, pressing soft kisses against the welts he created. “We have all night. And I plan on using our time wisely.”


End file.
